m 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

CALIFORNIA 
SAN  DIEGO 


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*- 


^' 


BELLE    BHUTAN 

ON  A  TOUR, 


AND 


HERE    AND    THERE. 


VIVE     LA    VIE! 


"  'lis  life  -whereof  our  nerves  are  scant, 
Oh!  life,  not  death,  for  which  we  pant; 
More  life,  and  fuller,  that  we  want." 

TBNNTSOK. 


NEW-YORK: 
DERBY  &  JACKSON,  PUBLISHERS, 

119    NASSAU-STREET. 

1858. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1858, 
BT  DERBY  &  JACKSON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  United  States  for  th« 
Southern  District  of  New -York. 


H'DIfEV  It  RUMZLL, 

PRINTERS, 
79  JOH^.ST.,  R.  T. 


WITH   A   FEW   WILD   FLOWERS   FROM   THE    WOODS   OF    ILLINOIS. 


I  SEND  you  flowers — wild  flowers  only — 

Oh,  touch  them,  take  them  with  a  reverent  hand  ! 

I  gathered  them  FOR  YOU,  in  wood  paths  lonely, 
A  shrinking  band. 

I  send  you  wild  flowers,  faded  tokens  ; 

You  see  the  glory  of  their  morn  is  gone  ; 
Each  fragile  censer,  filled  with  incense,  broken, 

Which  flushed  their  dawn. 

I  send  you  violets,  all  wan  and  shrunken, 
The  purple  wine  from  every  chalice  spilled ; 

Their  dewy  eyes,  which  drank  the  sunbeams,  sunken, 
Their  soft  life  stilled. 

Poor  little  flowers  !  ye  all  bloomed  and  faded 
In  chilly  corners,  where  no  zephyrs  hide  ; 

Your  narrow  arc  of  beauty  shadows  shaded, 
Until  you  died. 

No  one  to  love  you  in  the  darksome  forest ; 

No  lauding  lip  to  e'er  your  beauty  vaunt  ; 
Your  life,  with  none  to  draw  the  sweetness  from  it, 

Was  one  long  want. 

THOU,  who  dost  gather  from  enchanted  bowers 
The  rarest  blossoms  which  entrance  the  eyes, 

Has  thy  rich  heart  a  home  for  these  pale  flowers, 
In  pilgrim  guise  ? 


TO    BELLE    BRITTAN. 

Wilt  take  my  flowers  ?  From  their  faded  faces 
No  thrill  of  pleasure  will  your  spirit  glean? 

Not  beautiful  ? — if  born  in  sunnier  places, 
They  might  have  been. 

Oh,  take  my  flowers  !  tokens  from  the  giver 
Of  all  her  being  may  e'er  prove  to  you, 

A  wayside  blossom  blighted  :  never,  never, 
To  bloom  anew ! 

Her  life's  aroma  fainting,  failing,  dying, 

Will  wander,  breathing  at  your  far-off  shrine 

Love's  warmer  odor,  from  your  being  rising 
A  thing  divine ! 

CHICAGO,  May,  1858. 


THE  LOYELIEST  LADY  IN  THE  IAND, 
l 


is   i\t   lig^t   of  i\ 

A  MELODIOUS   MEMORY, 
A     HEAVENLY     HOPE, 

A    PEBPETUAL    INSPIRATION, 

WHATEVER     IS 

WORTHIEST   IN   THESE   PAGES 
IS    DUE, 

AND 

DEDICATED 


A  FEW  friends,  with  whose  wishes  it  is 
pleasant  and  easy  to  comply,  have  requested 
the  publication  of  these  hastily  written  Letters 
in  book  form.  Although  written  on  the  run, 
they  have  not  been  "carefully  revised  and 
corrected  by  the  author;"  but,  with  the  ex 
ception,  here  and  there,  of  the  substitution  of 
a  few  "stars"  in  place  of  something  better  or 
worse,  they  re-appear  "  with  all  their  imper 
fections  on  their  heads."  They  will  doubtless 
receive  unjust  censure  and  undue  praise ;  but  I 
am  too  well  accustomed  to  both,  I  trust,  to  be 
permanently  injured  by  either.  If  I  have  com 
mitted  errors  in  fact,  in  taste,  or  in  sentiment, 
or  written  a  word  to  wound  a  sensitive  heart, 
I  am  sorry  for  it ;  and  if  the  scattered  leaves 
have  given  pleasure  to  any  reader,  it  may  be 
hoped  that  they  will  not  be  less  welcome 
when  gathered  into — may  I  say,  a  bouquet  ? 
[a  book-eh  ?] 

BELLE    BRITTAN. 


CONTENTS, 


t 

BELLE  BRITTAN  ON  A  TOUR. 

WASHINGTON. — The  President — The  White  House — Miss 
Lane — Office-Seekers — Indian  Chiefs — Ball  at  the  Post 
master-General's — New- York  Ladies — Lady  Napier- 
Charles  Mackay — Lady  Napier's  Ball — The  Belles — New 
Year's  Day — The  New  Halls  of  Congress — Speaker  Orr 
— Manners — Fashions — Glover's  Modeled  Fruits — Mrs. 
Douglass — Mrs.  Slidell — Lady  Gore  Ouseley — Dinner  to 
Mackay — John  and  Jonathan — Gossip. 

WHEELING. — A  Long  Journey — Scenery — Harper's  Ferry — 
Cumberland — Tearful  Women — The  McClure  House — 
Nothing  Hot — Cheap  Coal,  and  Costly  Fires. 

CINCINNATI — Rich  Country — Burnet  House — The  City — 
Longworth's  Wine  Cellars — Hog  Factories — "  Bel  Smith" 
at  Home — Christening  Wine — Ham — Grape  Culture — 
Women — The  Burns'  Festival — Charles  Gould's  emenda 
tion  of  "  John  Anderson" — Lectures — Leaving. 

LOUISVILLE. — Accidents  on  the  Road — Explosion  of  the  Fanny 
Fern — Wanted  a  Cork-Screw — Jeffersonville — Whisky 
and  Women — The  Gait  House — Geo.  D.  Prentice — The 
Press — Prestcrti — Death  of  John  Raine — Catawba,  &c. 

ST.  Louis.— The  Planters'  Hotel— The  Growing  City— The 
Iron  Mountains — Public  Buildings — Newspapers — Mer 
cantile  Library — A  Wadding — Pretty  Ladies. 


X  CONTENTS. 

MISSISSIPPI  RIVER. — The  Steamboat  Philadelphia — Life  on 
Board — A  Maid  from  Alabama — Mackay's  Rhyme  of  the 
River — Counting  the  Sheep — Live  Stock — Sugar  Estates. 

NEW-ORLEANS. — The  St.  Charles — The  Opera — Concerts — 
The  Ladies — Charlotte  Cushman — The  Poet  "  Rosa" — 
The  Red  Petticoat  (in  full)— Who  is  Belle  Brittan  ?— 
Anonymous  Correspondence — The  Mistick  Krewe  of 
Comus— Cock-Fighting— The  "  Spirit  of  '76." 

MOBILE. — A  Cotton  City — The  Battle  House — Madame  Le 
Vert — John  Phoanix — A  Saucy  Postscript. 

Up  THE  ALABAMA. — New-York  Ladies — Montgomery — Pur 
suit  of  Supper  under  Difficulties — Southern  Hotels. 

SAVANNAH. — The  Pulaski  House — The  City — Regular  Bricks 
— Buenaventura  —  Malignant  Philanthropy  —  Northern 
Abolitionism,  and  Southern  Intolerance. 

CHARLESTON. — Slow  Steaming — Navigation  through  a  Cane- 
brake — Capt.  Brittan — Grayson's  Hireling  and  Slave — 
The  Bible — Profane  Readings — Colored  Sunday  Schools 
— The  Religion  of  Cleanliness — Gen.  Gadsden's  Rice 
Plantation,  and  his  Swarm  of  Black  Birds. 

RICHMOND. — Sunrise — Fiendish  Outrage — Holly-wooa  Ceme 
tery — Crawford's  Washington — Houdon's — The  Southern 
Matron — Mrs.  Cora  Ritchie — Mr.  Washington — James  the 
Novelist — Twin  Roses — The  Press — Dangerous  Eyes. 

WASHINGTON. — Another  Dinner  to  Mackay — Brady's  Gallery 
—Belle  Brittan  "  taken." 


BELLE   BRITTAN  AT  NEWPORT. 

NEWPORT. — A  Young  Girl's  Enthusiasm — An  Awful  Pun — 
Spring  Chickens — The  Germanians — Belles  Bathing — 
The  Circus — Big  Trunks — Brooks  and  Burlingame — No 
Beaux — Politics — Mr.  Buchanan's  Love  Story — Warning 


CONTENTS.  3ti 

to  Women—"  One  of  the  Girls"— History  of  the  United 
States  on  Horseback — A  Swimming-Lady — Steam 
Hurdy-Gurdy — 'Duels — •Concerts — La  Grange — Brignoli 
—Madame  de  Wilhorst — -Miss  Secor — Cottages — Code  of 
Honor  for  Women — 'Customs — Costumes — Fighting — 
Flirting — Fishing — -The  Belle  of  Newport — Abolitionism 
• —  Scandal  —  Fast  Horses  —  Fast  Women  —  Patriciug 
Hearne — The  Yachts — Matrimony — Gottschalk — Death  of 
Mr.  Ring — Splendid  Toilettes — 'Prince  John  Van  Buren — 
Charles  Astor  Bristed — Every  inch  a  Man— In  Love — • 
What  the  '  Papers  say — Anecdote  of  Charles  Lamb — A 
"  Bug"  in  a  Lady's  Room — The  Providence  Journal — Dr. 
Carnochan  —  Feminine  Ornaments  —  Baby-Belle  —  Fare 
well  Sighs — Varana  Vane. 


BELLE   BRITTAN   HERE   AND   THERE. 

The  Boston  Transcript — Life  in  New- York — The  Financial 
Panic — The  Greek  Slave — Ballet  Dancers — The  Credit 
System — Wall  Street — Japonicadom — The  Jobbers — 
Tom  Rapid — -Young  America  Train — The  Woodman 
Case — Bread  or  Blood — Randall's  Jefferson — Litera 
ture — Art — A  Richmond  Belle — A  Cowhiding  by  a  Wo 
man — Crawford ;  his  Life,  Death,  and  Works — The 
Banks — A  Collapsed  President — Buchanan's  Hamlet — 
Bayard  Taylor's  Wedding — Potiphar  Curtis — Paul  Fane 
Willis — The  Collins  Steamers — Belmont — Herr  Formes 
— City  Politics — Evacuation  Day — The  Court  of  Napo 
leon — World-noted  Women — Thanatopsis  Bryant — Bon- 
ner's  Ledger — City  Government — The  New  Post-Office 
— Postmaster  Fowler — Charles  Mathews — Mark  Smith — • 
Sunday  Concerts — The  St.  Nicholas  Hotel — Madison 
Square  Hotel — The  French  Gallery — Fifth  Avenue  Reli 
gion — The  Panic — Congress — Mrs.  Spencer's  Paintings 
— Mackay  at  the  St.  Andrew's  Festival — Death  of  N.  R. 


CONTENTS. 

Stimson — The  Journal  of  Commerce's  Call  to  Prayer — • 
Bryant's  Poems — Zanfretta  on  the  Tight  Rope — The  Poet 
Mackay — The  Opera — Beautiful  Books — The  Two  Frank 
Piece,  at  Wallack's — A  Fashionable  Party — Oratorios — 
Belmont's  and  Aspinwall's  Galleries — Mrs.  John  Wood — 
Charity  Balls — The  Asylum  for  Women — The  Yacht 
Wanderer — Parton's  Life  of  Burr — The  Pilgrim  Dinner 
and  Balls — A  Beecherism — Gen.  Webb's  Speech — • 
G.  F.  Train's  Speech — Changes — Death — Revivals — 
The  Bal  Masque — Fry's  Leonora- — Sugar — Curtis  on 
Woman  and  Slavery — The  Leviathan — The  Atlantic 
Ferry — Chapin  on  Woman  and  her  Work — Moving  Times 
— The  Bankrupt  Law — The  Dramatic  Fund — Dr.  Ward's 
Opera — Barnum's  Opera  Humbug — Cape  May — Bathing 
with  Beaux — Saratoga — Singing — Dancing — Belles — The 
Tableaux  at  the  "  United  States  "—The  Belles  of  the 
Season — an  Amateur  Artiste — Meyerbeer's  North  Star — 
Agnes  Robertson — Bourcicault — Madame  de  Wilhorst — 
Genius — The  Language  of  Heaven — Cousin  Lou — George 
Sanders — Governor  Floyd — Robert  J.  Walker — A  Vision 
of  Beauty — Mrs.  Fremont's  Bouquet  of  Protestant  Roses 
— The  Phantom  at  Wallack's  —  Wood's  Minstrels — 
Brougham  in  the  Bowery — Burton — a  Great  Institution — 
The  Theatre  the  Gate  of  Hell — In  for  it — Polly  Marshall 
— The  Academy  of  Design — The  Worship  of  the  Beau 
tiful  —  Matrimony  —  Edwin  Forrest  —  Rockaway  —  The 
Pavilion— The  Sea. 


BELLE  BRITTAI  ON  A  TOTJR. 


LETTER    I. 


WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINGTON, 
December  29,  1857. 


MY  DEAR : 

No  matter  why,  or  wherefore ;  but  here  I  am  in 
"Washington,  (a  place  not  worthy  of  the  name,)  and 
have  "  had  an  interview,"  as  the  phrase  goes,  with 
the  bachelor  President  of  this  great  Republic — the 
wifeless  father  of  a  great  and  growing  family  of 
thirty  millions  of  people !  "What  an  inspiration  of 
dignity  in  the  consciousness  of  being  the  Head  of 
such  a  nation !  A  man  of  authority,  of  patronage, 
and  of  power — one  of  the  chiefest  Chiefs  of  the  civi 
lized  world. 

Mr.  Buchanan  is  an  old  man — too  old  to  be  Presi 
dent — too  old  to  nutter  the  ribbons  of  your  "  fair 
correspondent,"  although  it  is  said  that  many  "  caps 
are  set  for  him"  upon  younger  heads  than  mine. 

2 


14  BELLE    BRITTAN 

But  for  a  veteran  of  threescore  years  and  ten  he 
seems  a  remarkably  fresh,  flush,  good-looking  man  ; 
and  the  crook  in  his  neck,  when  it  inclined  his  face 
to  me,  instead  of  being  a  deformity,  gave  him  a  pe 
culiarly  confidential  and  interesting  manner  of  con 
versation. 

I  found  the  "  White  House"  in  a  state  of  unusual 
neatness,  not  to  say  elegance ;  and  yet,  to  me,  it 
never  seemed  so  sad ;  for  I  remembered  some  cosy 
hours 'passed  in  its  smaller  social  rooms,  with  the 
accomplished  and  beautiful  Bettie  Bliss  and  the 
intelligent  and  amiable  Miss  Fillmore.  The  only 
familiar  household  face  I  saw  was  that  of  McManus, 
who,  for  the  last  twelve  years,  has  ushered  in  and 
out  all  the  great  and  little  folks,  who  "called  to 
see  the  President."  No  change  of  Administration 
teuches  him — an  exception  to  the  revolutionary  rule 
of  "rotation." 

In  the  reception-room  and  in  the  antechamber 
there  were,  perhaps,  fifty  men  waiting  for  an  au 
dience,  with  more  or  less  anxiety  in  their  faces — a 
crowd  of  beggars,  either  wanting  office,  or  to  be  re 
tained  in  office.  Thank  my  stars,  I  had  nothing  to 
ask  for ;  and  when  I  told  the  President  I  had  no 
"business"  to  be  there,  his  face  was  lighted  up  and 
relieved  with  a  most  welcome  smile  ;  and  giving  me 


ON    A    TOUR.  15 

an  extra  shake  of  the  hand,  invited  me  to  pass  the 
evening,  socially,  with  Miss  Lane.  He  then  said  to 
the  nervous-looking  crowd  of  waiting  gentlemen : 
"I  have  to  observe  the  miller's  rule,  gentlemen; 
and  those  of  you  who  wish  to  speak  to  me  on  busi 
ness  can  do  so  now,  in  the  order  of  your  coming." 
Whereupon  they  began  to  approach  "him  one  by  one, 
pop  a  word  into  his  private  ear,  and  then  fall  back. 
I  noticed  that  the  President  listened  with  a  placid, 
yet  imperturbably  non-committal  look,  making  no 
answer  that  amounted  to  a  yes  or  no ;  but  with  a 
bland  and  politic  assurance  that  each  particular  case 
should  be  taken  into  special  consideration.  What  a 
bore  !  I  exclaimed,  as  I  descended  the  stairs  so  many 
thousands  have  trod  with  palpitating  hearts.  My 
dear  old  bachelor  Buck !  Virgin  spinster  that  I  am, 
I  would  not  share  your  cares  for  all  your  honors ; 
and  I  would  rather  adorn  a  cottage  ornee,  with  the 
unknown  man  after  my  own  heart,  than  to  reign 
over  the  cold  formalities  of  the  "  White  House'' 
forever. 

My  next  call  was  one  that  interested  me  vastly 
more  ;  but  from  which  I  returned  in  a  still  more  re 
flective,  not  to  say  melancholy  mood.  The  Red 
Chiefs  of  the  Western  wilderness — the  aboriginal 
natives  of  the  soil — the  chosen  delegates  of  the  Pon- 


16  BELLE    BRITTAN 

cas  and  Pawnees  are  here,  in  all  the  glory  of  paint 
and  feathers,  to  "  ratify  a  treaty,"  and  learn  from 
their  "  great  father"  that  they  can  no  longer  occupy 
the  pleasant  hunting-grounds  where  their  ancestors 
have  fished  and  fought,  and  lived  and  loved,  for  un 
known  ages.  _This  hard  and  cruel  fate  was  dis 
tinctly  stated  to  them  by  the  Commissioner ;  and  I 
have  seldom  heard  any  tone  more  touching  than  the 
half  grunt,  half  groan,  with  which  they  responded  to 
every  sentence  of  the  interpreter.  Two  or  three 
among  them  are  fine-looking  fellows ;  bright-eyed, 
broad-chested,  athletic  men,  with  bwtve  and  fearless 
faces,  and  expressive,  sonorous  names,  good  enough 
for  Longfellow  to  weave  into  his  Runic  rhymes : 
Wagosoppee,  the  "  Whip,"  (principal  chief;)  Gresh- 
thouwago,  or  the  "  Strong  Walker;"  Michael  Cerre, 
or  "  Washkomonny,  the  Hard  Walker  ;"  Dishmon- 
ickagahe,  or  the  "Lone  Chief;"  Showcabbee,  or 
the  "  Threatening  Cloud ;"  and  Fantamganoghee, 
or  the  "  Standing  Buffalo,"  &c.,  &c. 

One  of  these  warriors  of  the  wilderness  seems  to 
be  regally  proud  of  his  necklace  of  human  scalps. 
But  they  are  the  savage  trophies  torn  from  his  own 
people,  not  from  the  heads  of  the  white  men.  These 
Poncas  must  move  westward  from  Nebraska,  and 
they  are  here  to  sign  the  treaty  that  banishes  them 


ON    A    TOUR.  17 

from  their  fathers'  graves.  Is  it  not  sad  ?  But  life, 
even  to  the  most  favored  and  refined  races,  is  full  of 
sad  necessities.  A  few  years  more,  and  the  remnant 
of  the  once  mighty  red  race  will  vanish  from  the 
great  continent  which  once  was  all  their  own,  and 
their  history  will  be  but  a  plaintive  echo,  growing 
fainter  and  fainter  to  every  succeeding  age.  "  Slowly 
and  sadly  they  climb  the  western  mountains,  and 
read  their  doom  in  the  setting  sun." 

A  srand  ball  at  Postmaster- General  Brown's  uses 

o 

up  the  day  and  me  together.  It  was  the  "  opening 
ball "  of  the  season  ;  and  a  regular  Washington  jam. 
All  the  beaux  and  belles  in  the  city  were  there. 
Eighteen  hundred  invitations  were  given  out ;  pro 
bably  a  thousand  persons  were  present.  Gov.  Brown 
is  rich,  and  entertains  like  a  prince.  His  family 
consists  of  a  wife  and  "one  fair  (step)  daughter,  and 
no  more,  whom  he  loveth  passing  well."  Several 
members  of  the  Cabinet,  and  most  of  the  Foreign 
Ministers  were  present,  including  the  gentlemanly 
Lord  Napier  and  his  beautiful  lady.  But  in  point  of 
style  the  New- York  ladies  decidedly  bore  the  palm. 
Mrs.  Bergh,  Mrs.  Sickles,  and  Mrs.  Clark  were  ele 
gantly  dressed,  and  shone  as  the  particular  stars  of 
the  evening.  Among  the  "  lions,"  none  were  more 
marked  or  more  courted  than  Mackay,  the  poet- 


18  BELLE    BRITTAN 

editor,  whose  modesty  of  manner  is  as  rare  as  his 
character  and  his  talents  are  meritorious.  The  dan 
cing  ( the  waltz,  the  polka,  the  lancers,  and  the 
quadrille)  was  kept  up  until  one  o'clock,  when  your 
"fair  correspondent"  retired  with  profound  satisfac 
tion,  to  seek  that  solitary  solace — "tired  nature's 
sweet  restorer — balmy  sleep." 


LETTER    II. 

_____          ITT 


WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINSTON, 
January  3d,  1858. 


MY  DEAR 


LORD  NAPIER  is  a  brick.  Learning,  as  I  suppose, 
from  the  Picayune,  which  everybody  here  who  is 
anybody  always  carries  in  his  pocket,  that  your 
"  fair  correspondent"  was  at  Willard's,  his  lordship 
did  the  handsome  thing.  He  came,  and  saw,  and 
conquered.  I  am  not  entirely — that  is,  not  formally 
"out "yet;  but  I  could  not  resist  the  attractions 
of  Lady  Napier's  grand  ball  on  Thursday  evening 
last.  It  was  a  magnificent  affair.  Shall  I  tell  you 
something  about  it  ?  In  the  first  place,  I  was 
"  taken  "  with  the  excellence  and  systematic  arrange 
ment  of  the  dressing  or  undressing  rooms.  Our 


ON    A    TOUR.  19 

'things"  were  taken  off  by  servants,  carefully 
folded,  and  ticketed,  to  prevent  all  possibility  of  loss, 
or  confusion  of  cloaks,  shawls,  hats,  hoods,  &c.,  &c. ; 
an  admirable  system,  which  should  be  introduced 
at  every  grand  gathering.  On  entering  the  recep 
tion  room,  Lady  Napier,  a  fine-looking  woman,  wel 
comed  every  guest  with  a  gracious  smile,  a  cordial 
hand,  and  a  graceful  courtesy  that  inspired  a  sort  of 
self-complacent  ease,  even  in  the  most  awkward  and 
ungainly  "  members ;"  while  his  lordship  stood  by 
her  side,  repeating  the  welcome,  no  less  warmly,  and 
passing  the  guests  on  to  the  ball-room.  I  have 
seldom  seen  a  finer-looking  couple  ;  and  never  wit 
nessed  manners  more  charming.  It  touched  me 
like  a  strain  of  sweet  home  music ;  such  graceful 
affability ;  such  delicate  attentiveness ;  such  gentle 
and  such  generous  hospitality.  What  magnetism 
there  is  in  a  look,  a  smile,  a  tone,  or  a  motion !  And 
how  the  sweet  sunshine  of  one  lovely  face  can  lend 
"  a  nameless  grace,"  not  only  to  a  whole  household, 
but  to  a  whole  city — not  to  say  a  whole  universe. 
Lord  Napier  is  a  model  host,  as  well  as  a  model  Min 
ister  ;  young,  yet  mature,  modest,  yet  manly,  he 
nobly  expresses  the  intelligence,  the  gallantry,  and 
the  dignity  of  England.  "An  upright,  downright 
Englishman,"  to  steal  a  line  from  Mackay.  The 


20  BELLE    BRITTAN 

company,  as  Mrs.  Partington  says,  was  extremely 
"  researchy" — the  creme  de  la  creme  of  Washington  : 
Cabinet  Ministers,  Foreign  Ministers,  with  here  and 
there  a  "minister  of  grace."  I  might  give  you  a 
long  catalogue  of  the  "  dignities"  present ;  but  this 
is  a  custom  of  the  letter  writers  "more  honored  in 
the  breach  than  in  the  observance."  The  rooms 
were  brilliantly  lighted — a  great  element  of  success — 
and  the  atmosphere  redolent  of  flowers,  which  is  far 
more  agreeable  than  the  compound  of  miscellaneous 
odors,  natural  and  artificial,  one  is  usually  regaled 
with  in  crowded  ball-rooms.  At  12  o'clock  everybody 
wished  everybody  "  a  happy  new  year,"  the  band 
played  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  then  "  God  Save  the 
Queen,"  and  at  half-past  12  the  "march"  for  sup 
per,  which  was  an  elegant  but  not  an  extravagant 
portion  of  the  entertainment.  Must  I  mention  the 
,' belles  of  the  evening?"  This  is  always  a  delicate 
and  difficult  question,  and  one  on  which  "  opinions 
differ."  But  the  sparkling  daughter  of  the  Post 
master-General,  and  the  lifeful  wife  of  one  of  our 
New- York  city  "  members"  (to  say  nothing  of  the 
bashful,  blushing,  budding,  &c.,  whom  modesty 
forbids  me  to  name),  reminded  me  as  much  of  flow 
ers  surrounded  by  honey-bees  as  any  thing  I  can 
think  of.  ( Quere. :  Do  bees  ever  sting  the  flowers 


ON    A    TOUR.  21 

while  stealing  their  honey?)  Among  the  "best 
talkers  present  were  the  accomplished  daughter  of 
the  Secretary  of  State,  a  daughter  of.  the  Hon.  Ed 
ward  Everett,  and  the  handsomer  and  "better half" 
of  one  of  your  Louisiana  Senators.  The  most  agree 
able  American  beau  I  met  there  (and  meet  often)  is 
the  young,  fine-looking,  fine-mannered  "member" 
from  your  own  city.  He  and  the  brave  young 
"  member "  from  Boston  are  among  the  ornaments 
of  the  capital.  The  literary  "  lion,"  and  the  most 
retiring  man  of  the  evening,  was  Charles  Mackay, 
the  Song  King,  who  reigns  here  in  the  social  circle, 
as  well  as  in  the  universal  heart  of  humanity.  But 
I  am  lingering  too  loi^g  at  the  ball  (not  the  bowl}. 

"  Too  late  I've  staid — forgive  the  crime — 

Unheeded  flew  the  hours, 
How  noiseless  falls  the  foot  of  Time 

That  only  treads  on  flowers." 

The  most  missed  person  at  Lady  Napier's  was 
Miss  Lane,  the  lady  of  the  "  White  House."  She  is 
mourning  the  loss  of  a  relative,  and  does  not  go  to 
balls.  But  having  passed  the  earlier  part  of  the  even 
ing  in  her  company,  her  sweet,  serene  face  went 
with  me  into  the  crowd,  neutralizing  the  effect  of 
many  a  gayer  one.  Did  the  reader  ever  try  to  drink 
beer  after  Burgundy  ? 

2* 


22  BELLE    BRITTAN 

On  New  Year's  Day,  under  the  convoy  of  two 
generals,  and  accompanied  by  the  poet  Mackay,  I 
saw  all  that  was  brightest  and  best  in  Washington. 
There  is  more  domestic  splendor  here  than  I  ex 
pected  to  find  at  our  "  Republican  Court."  The 
houses  are  large  and  elegantly  furnished — with  a 
great  profusion  of  books,  paintings,  and  statuary. 
The  President's  "reception"  was  an  awful  jam. 
Miss  Lane  looked  like  a  queen.  She  had  shed  her 
black,  and  came  out  in  violet.  But  I  could  not 
help  pitying  her  while  she  stood  there  shaking  hands 
indiscriminately  with  thousands,  knowing  (for  such 
is  our  woman's  nature)  that  she  would  rather  have 
one  good,  long  *****  than  all  the  good 
wishes  showered  upon  her  from  the  miscellaneous 
multitude.  Speaking  of  the  delicate  subject  re 
minds  me  of  a  conundrum  that  has  been  bothering 
me  :  Why  is  a  kiss  like  a  sandwich  ? 

Last  evening  the  beauty,  the  dignity,  and  the 
fashion  of  the  city  made  a  brilliant  congregation  at 
Philharmonic  Hall,  where  Mackay  gave  his  lecture 
on  "  Song."  The  ambassadors,  the  secretaries,  "  the 
senators  and  representatives  in  Congress  assembled," 
turned  out  in  strong  force.  Lady  Napier  brought 
the  distinguished  lecturer  to  the  hall  in  her  carriage, 
and  Miss  Lane's  lovely  presence  lent  lustre  to  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  23 

occasion.  The  lecture  and  the  audience  were  worthy 
of  each  other.  By  the  way,  Mackay  is  strongly 
urged  to  extend  his  journey  as  far  south  as  New- 
Orleans  ;  and  if  he  does,  you  need  not  he  surprised 
to  find  your  "fair  correspondent"  somewhere  in  the 
"  tail  of  the  comet."  Great  Britain,  and  conjunc 
tively — your  own  little  BELLE  BRITTAN. 


LETTER    No.    III. 

WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINGTON, 
January  10,  1858. 

MY  DEAR  : 

THE  capital  of  the  nation  is  gay,  gayer  than 
New- York.  But  it  is  no  unusual  thing  for  the  head 
to  be  giddy  while  the  heart  is  sad.  The  great  com 
mercial,  or  vital  centre,  has  felt  the  full  force  of  the 
financial  pressure ;  but  "Washington,  which  lives  on 
government  salaries,  is  comparatively  slightly  af 
fected.  There  is  a  continual  round  of  balls,  dinners, 
and  receptions  ;  and  the  excitement  of  these  private 
entertainments,  thus  far,  quite  neutralizes  the  doings 
in  Congress.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the 
splendid  balls  of  Lady  Napier,  M'me  Albuquerque, 
Mrs.  P.  M.  Gr.  Brown,  Mrs.  Slidell,  or  any  other  of 
the  many  magnificent  fetes  of  the  last  ten  days.  All 


24  BELLE    BRITTAN 

that  I  leave  to  the  more  facile  pen  of  your      * 

*  *  *  *  whom  I  have  been  happy  to  meet  in 
all  these  gay  and  festive  scenes.  She  is  more  at 
home  in  the  muslin  mysteries  of  feminine  "  fixins," 
and  can  indulge  in  toilette  liberties  denied  to  rougher 
hands.  Neither  will  I  encroach  upon  the  "  news 
department,"  so  admirably  filled  by  your  indefati 
gable  correspondent,  who  lets  no  item  of  interest 
escape  his  news-trap  from  either  end  of  the  Avenue. 
A  few  impressions  of  men  and  things  in  general  is 
all  I  shall  attempt  while  "  on  the  wing."  And, 
apropos,  the  "  wings"  of  the  Capitol  disappoint  me, 
and  the  new  Hall  of  Representatives  strikes  me 
as  a  magnificent  failure.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  par 
allelogram — a  mistake  to  begin  with  ;  and  it  lacks 
both  height  and  light.  The  chairs  and  desks  of  the 
members  are  rich  and  luxurious,  and  the  Speaker's 
mountings  are  particularly  sumptuous ;  but  the 
Speaker's  Room  is  as  disagreeably  gorgeous  as  a 
North-river  steamboat.  By  the  way,  why  does  not 
some  good,  independent,  national,  rational,  radical 
democrat  move  to  abolish  the  title  of  "  Speaker," — a 
term  borrowed  from  the  Commons  of  England,  when 
it  designated  the  only  man  in  the  House  privileged 
to  speak  to  a  representative  of  the  Crown.  Chair 
man,  or  President,  would  be  far  more  proper,  as  well 
as  more  American. 


ON    A    TOUR.  25 

Mr.  Orr,  I  should  say,  presides  well.  He  is  one 
of  the  largest  and  noblest-looking  men  in  the  House, 
which  is  made  up  of  the  most  ordinary  material, 
with  evidently  a  large  profusion  of  mere  politicians 
of  the  commonest  sort.  And,  if  the  presiding  officer 
would  change  his  formal  announcement  of  "  the 
gentleman  from  Bungtown  has  the  floor,"  to  the 
"  member  from,"  &c.,  &c.,  he  would  less  frequently 
be  guilty  of  a  misnomer,  as  a  member  of  Congress  is 
not,  ex  necessitate,  a  gentleman.  A  friend  of  mine, 
who  has  a  namesake  in  the  House,  is  often  asked,  on 
being  introduced  to  strangers,  if  he  is  "the  member 
from ."  His  annoyance  at  the  presumed  iden 
tity  led  him  to  astonish  a  Foreign  Minister  the  other 
day  by  saying,  with  shocking  emphasis,  "  No,  I'll  be 

if  I  am  !"    Nevertheless,  there  are  a  few  highly 

accomplished  gentlemen  in  Congress,  well  educated, 
and  good-mannered.  But  the  great  majority  talk 
without  courtesy,  debate  without  decency,  spit  on 
the  new  carpet  without  compunction,  and  some  even 
blow  their  noses  in  their  napkins  !  These  are  dis 
gusting  facts  ;  and  such  as  we  would  hardly  forgive 
a  foreigner  for  uttering;  and  my  only  motive  for 
mentioning  them  is  to  mend  them.  The  marble  steps 
of  the  Capitol  are  covered  with  nasty  u  cuds,"  and 
yellow  spots  of  tobacco  juice,  constantly  wiped  up  by 


26 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


the  trailing  skirts  and  scollopped  skirticoats  of  the 
ladies.  As  Mrs.  Partington  says,  "  it  is  enough  to 
make  one's  g-eorg-e  rise"  to  think  of  it. 

The  exciting  topics  before  Congress,  and  before  the 
country  are,  as  all  the  world  knows,  "  Filibusterism 
in  Central  America,  andNiggerism  in  Kansas."  The 
President  is  between  the  two  fires.  He  favors  the 
pro-slavery  constitution  of  Kansas  ;  and  the  whole 
North  becomes  a  hornet's  nest  about  his  ears.  He 
rather  sustains  Paulding  in  the  arrest  of  Walker ; 
and  the  entire  South,  that  "  honey -fuggled"  him  yes 
terday,  turns  tail  and  stings  him  to-day.  Between  the 
two,  Mr.  Buchanan  is  not  sleeping  on  a  bed  of  roses. 
But  while  he  is  determined  to  quash  the  movement 
of  private  filibusterism — or,  as  Haskin  of  New- York 
boldly  said  in  the  House  the  other  day — while  he 
goes  against  the  "  petty  larceny"  attempts  of 
"Walker,  he  is  preparing  to  "  astonish  the  natives," 
and  consolidate  the  people  by  an  act  of  "  national 
grand  larceny,"  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the 
Ostend  manifesto,  and  the  devil's  doctrine  of  "  mani 
fest  destiny."  Mexico,  Cuba,  and  Central  America 
are  down  in  the  programme.  The  hungry,  aggres 
sive  spirit  of  the  Democracy  must  be  appeased.  The 
"  malignant  philanthropy"  of  Anglo- Saxonism  must 
have  an  outlet.  The  great  army  of  the  unemployed 


ON  A  TOUR.  27 

sans-culottes  are  "  spoiling'.'  for  a  fight.  The  Ameri 
can  eagle  is  longing  to  lay  an  egg  in  the  Cordilleras 
mountains,  and  Comonfort  is  "  tipping  her  the 
wink." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  scenes  I  have  wit 
nessed  in  Washington  was  the  presentation  of  the 
Chiefs  of  the  Poncas,  the  Pawnees,  and  the  Potta- 
wattamies,  to  their  "  Great  Father,"  in  the  great 
room  of  the  "White  House.  There  were  at  least 
thirty  of  them,  and  about  half  of  the  number  made 
speeches  of  not  more  than  five  minutes  on  the  aver 
age.  They  looked  at  the  President  full  in  the  eye, 
bore  themselves  proudly,  and  spoke  without  the 
slightest  hesitation  or  embarrassment.  But  if  the 
interpreters  did  them  justice,  there  was  a  great 
sameness  in  their  sentiments.  They  had  come  a 
long  way  to  see  their  Great  Father.  The  first  part 
of  the  journey  was  tedious,  and  they  soiled  their  moc 
casins  ;  but  the  latter  part  of  the  way  they  came 
quick,  and  kept  all  the  while  looking  out  to  see  if 
they  could  see  their  great  Father.  They  were  glad 
to  see  him,  and  to  find  that,  he  was  not  poor.  They 
thanked  the  Great  Spirit  for  bringing  them  here ; 
and  they  hoped  now  they  should  be  like  their  Great 
Father — no  longer  poor.  This  was  the  burthen  of 
all.  They  wanted  money.  Money  was  everything. 


28  BELLE    BRITTAN 

As  the  early  part  of  the  President's  education  had 
been  neglected  in  this  respect,  and  as  he  could  not 
speak  the  language  of  the  original  American  people, 
his  answer  had  to  be  three  times  interpreted.  He 
gave  each  tribe  good  advice,  and  insisted  on  their 
shaking  hands  with  each  other,  although  at  war  at 
home.  It  made  some  of  their  bare,  brave  bosoms 
swell  to  do  it ;  but  they  went  through  the  ceremony 
with  great  dignity,  and  an  apparent  determination 
tj  keep  the  peace  so  signally  ratified. 

In  the  Patent  Office,  now  extended  over  the  entire 
square,  there  is  a  most  beautiful  and  remarkable 
collection  of  "  Modeled  Fruits,"  which  is  one  of  the 
Capitol  curiosities  well  worth  seeing.  The  collection 
consists  of  about  two  thousand  specimens  of  the  prin 
cipal  fruits  and  esculent  roots  of  the  United  States, 
and  has  occupied  the  artist,  Mr.  Townsend  Grlover, 
some  six  years  to. bring  the  work  to  its  present  state. 
The  specimens  are  all  cast  or  modeled  in  a  hard  ma 
terial,  and  then  prepared  and  painted  in  oil  colors. 
It  is  intended  to  furnish  a  ready  means  for  the  iden 
tification  and  classification  of  fruit,  and  to  indicate, 
by  appropriate  labels,  the  soil  and  locality  where  such 
will  best  thrive.  Congress  has  not  yet  purchased  the 
collection,  but  I  believe  an  appropriation  for  the  pur 
pose  has  passed  both  Houses.  To  farmers  and  horti- 


ON    A    TOUR.  29 

culturists  this  collection  of  Mr.  Grlover  is  invaluable, 
and  the  Government  should  purchase  and  pay  for  it 
without  delay. 

The  weather  here  for  the  past  ten  days  has  teen 
wondrous  fine)  and  overcoats  have  been  an  incum- 
brance.  The  Avenue  looks  almost  as  gay  as  Broad- 
way.  The  hotels  are  crowded,  and  the  resident  pop 
ulation  has  risen  to  sixty  thousand. 


LETTER  No.  IV. 


WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINGTON;  > 
Jan.  14,  1858.        '  J 


MY  DEAR : 

MY  trunk  is  packed,  my  P.  P.  C's  are  issued  ;  and 
where  I  shall  turn  up,  remains  to  be  seen.  But,  be 
fore  starting  for  "  fresh  fields  and  pastures  new,"  let 
me  give  a  parting  glance  at  this  city  of  magnificent 
hospitalities,  as  well  as  "  distances."  It  seems  to  me 
that  Washington  never  goes  to  bed ;  never  gets  en 
tirely  sober.  Indeed,  there  is  not  time,  between  one 
entertainment  and  another.  Every  day  there  are 
"  receptions ;"  every  night  there  are  balls ;"  and 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  day  of  rest.  "  Madame 
is  at  home  Sunday  evening."  How  the  mem 
bers  of  Congress — such  of  them  as  are  known  as 


30  BELLE    BRITTAN 

"  society  men  " — manage  to  attend  to  the  affairs  of 
the  nation  in  general,  and  of  their  constituents  in 
particular,  is  more  than  I  can  understand.  Several 
of  them  have  informed  me  that  they  employ  private 
secretaries  to  write  their  letters  and  answer  cards  of 
invitation.  What  is  the  object,  the  motive  of  all 
these  entertainments  ? — it  may  be  asked.  Perhaps  it 
would  not  be  fair  to  question  too  curiously  into  this 
matter ;  and  it  would  certainly  be  a  most  amiable 
conclusion  to  attribute  all  this  costly  hospitality  to  a 
purely  benevolent  disposition  to  bring  people  together 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  feasting  them  and  making 
them  happy.  As  the  moral  philosophers  teach  us 
that  most  human  motives  are  "  mixed  " — a  compound 

V 

of  selfishness  and  philanthropy — so  we  may  take  it 
for  granted  that  these  brilliant  and  expensive  parties 
are  given  for,  at  least,  a  double  purpose.  Some  have 
fine  houses  and  elegant  pictures  to  exhibit ;  some  have 
great  wealth  to  display  ;  and  some  have  fair  daughters, 
more  or  less  attractive,  "  in  the  market."  The  for 
eign  ministers  have  a  national  dignity  to  maintain  ; 
the  cabinet  a  race  of  social  rivalry  to  run ;  a  few 
of  the  rich  "  members  "  have  handsome  wives  to  gra 
tify  ;  and  the  wealthy  and  fashionable  citizens  a  sort 
of  "  West  End  "  circle  to  adorn  and  guard.  Corco 
ran,  Tayloe,  Hill,  &c.,  represent  Washington ;  Sew- 
ard,  Slidell,  Douglas,  Grwin,  &c.,  the  Senate  ;  Napier, 


ON    A    TOUR.  31 

Albuquerque,  Stoeckel,  &c.,  the  foreign  nations;  and 
then  there  is  a  large  sprinkling  of  colonels,  commo 
dores,  captains,  and  generals,  who  represent  the  army 
and  the  navy  in  social  life  ;  and  thus  there  is  no  end 
to  the  gaities  and  gallantries  of  Washington.  The 
mystery  is,  how  a  regular  habitue  can  survive  such 
a  campaign,  and  all  the  concomitant  champagne 
and  oysters.  To  go  through  ten  dinner  parties  in  one 
week,  and  five  dancing  parties  in  one  night,  is  a 
rather  laborious  pleasure.  But  "  the  labor  we  delight 
in  physics  pain,"  and  of  this  sort  of  "  physic"  I  have 
had  enough  during  my  three  weeks'  whirl  in  Wash 
ington,  to  last  me,  at  least,  through  the  coming  wel 
come  season  of  "  Lent." 

A  word  touching  the  great  and  all- engrossing  topic 
of  dress  may  not  be  uninteresting  to  your  fair  readers. 
As  I  have  before  written,  the  New- York  ladies,  as  a 
general  rule,  are  the  best  dressed  ladies  in  Washing 
ton.  In  this  respect  we  are  hard  to  beat.  Not  that 
we  wear  richer  fabrics  or  costlier  jewels.  Tout  0,24. 
contraire,  some  of  your  Southern  belles  beat  us  in 
their  nightly  display  of  laces  and  diamonds,  and  in 
"  low  necks  and  short  sleeves."  But  the  more  ton- 
nish  of  our  New- York  ladies,  whatever  fondness  they 
may  have  for  precious  stones  and  spider  web  trim 
mings,  think  it  vulgar  always  to  wear  them.  And 


32  BELLE    BRITTAN 

as  to  "  low  necks,"  we  leave  them  to  "  low  people." 
In  the  presence  of  certain  distinguished  ladies  here, 
I  have  felt  grateful  for  the  use  of  a  pink  fan  to  con 
ceal  my  blushes. 

"  Hide,  oh,  hide  those  hills  of  snow,"  &c. 

Now,  do  not  think  me  squeamish  or  prudish.  I 
am  not  a  bit  of  it.  But  there  is  a  time  and  a  place 
for  all  things  ;  and  a  miscellaneous  gathering  of  pro 
miscuous  people  is  not  the  proper  time  and  place  for 
a  stunning  exhibition  of  a  beautiful  bosom. 

One -of  the  brightest  looking  and  most  sweetly 
dressed  young  ladies  I  have  met  here,  is  the  graceful, 
bright-eyed,  dignified  daughter  of  the  late  Judge 
Woodbury,  of  New-Hampshire.  I  have  only  seen 
her  in  immaculate  white,  and  with  only  her  swan- 
like  throat  bare.  But  her  "courtesy"  in  the  Lan 
cers  would  take  me  off  my  feet  if  I  were ;  but 

I  am  not.  Still  she  reminds  me  of  one  of  Mackay's 
sweet  songs,  which,  after  repudiating  Love  as  a  dan 
gerous  and  troublesome  illusion,  says  : 

"  But  when  I  look  on  Ellen's  face, 

With  arch  endearment  gleaming, 
And  from  her  eyes  see  Love's  replies 

In  every  glance  come  streaming — 
Not  Anthony,  who  lost  a  world, 

Nor  Paris,  son  of  Priam, 
Nor  any  fool  who  died  for  love, 

Was  such  a  fool  as  I  am !  " 


ON   A    TOUR.  33 

Mrs.  Senator  Douglas,  Mrs.  Slidell,  and  Mrs.  Thomp 
son,  are  among  the  acknowledged  "  beauties  "  of  our 
republican  court.  Mrs.  Douglas  will  do  her  full  share 
in  dragging  the  triumphal  car  of  the  "  little  giant" 
up  to  the  White  House.  She  looks  like  a  queen,  and 
if  the  Constitution  permitted,  who  could  refuse  to 
vote  for  one  so  queenly  ?  Mrs.  Slidell  entertains  as 
handsomely  as  any  lady  in  Washington,  and  possesses 
every  accomplishment  of  mind,  manner,  and  person, 
to  grace  a  foreign  court.  I  have,  therefore,  a  purely 
patriotic  and  most  unselfish  desire  that  she  should  re 
present  us  at  the  brilliant  court  of  Madrid. 

Lady  Grore  Ouseley,  I  am  told,  (though  I  have  not 
seen  it,)  has  introduced  the  English  novelty  of  the 
red  petticoat,  now  all  the  rage  in  London.  They  are 
made  of  woolen,  with  black  stripes  woven  in,  and  are 
said  to  have  a  most  coquettish  and  bewitching  effect 
— although  that  will  depend  upon  the  person  who 
wears,  and  the  manner  of  handling  them.  The  poet 
Mackay,  who  sings  of  every  thing  that  strikes  his  eye 
or  his  heart,  thus  pitches  into  the  crimson  skirt : 


"  Oh,  the  red,  the  flaunting  petticoat ! 

That  courts  the  eye  of  day  ; 
That  loves  to  flare,  and  be  admired, 

And  blinks  from  far  away. 
It  may  delight  the  roving  sight, 

And  charm  the  fancy  free  : 


34  BELLE    BRITTAN 

But  if  its  wearer's  half  as  bold, 

I'll  pass  and  let  her  be, 
With  her  red,  her  flaunting  petticoat — 

She's  not  the  girl  for  me." 

But  this  poetic  shaft  was  not  aimed  at  her  ladyship, 
who  is  a  very  charming  and  accomplished  woman, 
and  an  American  at  that. 

To-night,  several  distinguished  gentlemen,  mostly 
members  of  Congress,  give  the  popular  poet,  Mackay, 
a  dinner.  Your  "  fair  correspondent  "  is  honored  with 
an  invitation,  and  highly  honored,  too,  as  no  other 
ladies  are  to  sweeten  the  feast  by  their  presence.  To 
go,  or  not  to  go,  that's  the  question.  And,  as  you 
editors  say,  of  a  rebus,  "  the  answer  in  our  next." 
Yours,  in  a  cloak  and  a  quandary, 


LETTER    No.   V. 

WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINGTON,  ^ 
January  15,  1858.  \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

YIELDING  to  the  persuasions  of  friends  and  to  the 
temptations  of  a  good  dinner  (womanly  weaknesses), 
I  "laid  over,"  as  the  rail-road  folks  say,  another  day, 


ON    A    TOUR.  35 

in  order  to  see  the  poet  Mackay  crowned  at  the  Cap 
itol.  It  was  a  beautiful  and  memorable  occasion. 
The  company  was  of  the  selectest  quality  ;  the  wines 
and  viands  fit  for  an  Olympian  feast;  and  the 
honored  guest  of  the  evening  worthy  of  all  the 
eloquent  praise  so  generously  and  gracefully  be 
stowed  upon  song  and  song  makers.  Among  the  dis 
tinguished  persons  present  were  Gen.  James  Shields  ; 
Senator  Seward ;  Hon.  Mr.  Sherman,  of  Ohio ;  Hon. 
Mr.  Burlingame,  of  Massachusetts  ;  Hon.  Mr.  Boyce, 
of  South  Carolina ;  Hon.  Elijah  Ward,  of  New- 
York  ;  Governor  Price,  of  New- Jersey ;  Gen.  Aaron 
Ward,  Gen.  Q,uitman,  Capt.  Meigs,  Lieut.  Maxwell 
Woodhull ;  Hon.  Mr.  Parrott,  of  Kansas ;  Charles 
Lanman,  Esq.,  Henry  Bergh,  Esq.,  George  Francis 
Train,  Esq.,  Col.  Fuller,  &c.  You  can  readily  believe 
that,  with  the  meeting  and  mingling  of  such  intellect 
ual  elements  (to  say  nothing  of  the  "choice  spirits" 
supplied  by  the  Bon  Gautier,  in  whose  elegant  saloon 
we  were  assembled),  the  "  good  time,"  so  long  pro 
mised  by  our  poet,  came  with  a  perfect  rush.  Gen. 
Shields  presided  ;  and  on  the  "  removal  of  the  cloth" 
(or  rather  what  was  on  it),  introduced  the  distin 
guished  guest  in  a  strain  of  earnest  and  eloquent 
commendation.  Dr.  Mackay  rose,  blushing,  amidst 
a  vociferous  "three  times  three  and  one  more." 


36  BELLE    BRITTAN 

But,  instead  of  giving  us  a  speech  in  mundane 
prose,  proceeded,  after  a  felicitous  acknowledgment 
of  the  honor  conferred  upon  him,  to  recite  the  fol 
lowing  poem,  prepared  for  the  occasion : 

JOHN    AND   JONATHAN. 
Said  brother  Jonathan  to  John, 

"  You  are  the  elder  born, 
And  I  can  bear  another's  hate, 

But  not  your  slightest  scorn. 
You've  lived  a  life  of  noble  strife, 

You've  made  a  world  your  own — 
Why,  when  I  follow  in  your  steps, 

Receive  me  with  a  groan  1 

"  I  feel  the  promptings  of  my  youth, 

That  urge  me  evermore 
To  spread  my  fame,  my  race,  my  name, 

From  shore  to  furthest  shore. 
I  feel  the  lightnings  in  my  blood, 
/    The  thunders  in  my  hand, 
And  I  must  work  my  destiny 

Whoever  may  withstand. 

"  And  if  you'd  give  me,  Brother  John, 

The  sympathy  I  crave, 
And  stretch  your  warm,  fraternal  hand 

Across  the  Atlantic  wave,  , 

I'd  give  it  such  a  cordial  grasp 

That  earth  should  start  to  see, 
And  ancient  crowns  and  sceptres  shake 

That  fear  both  you  and  me." 

Said  brother  John  to  Jonathan, 

"  You  do  my  nature  wrong  ; 
I  never  hated,  never  scorned, 

But  loved  you  well  and  long. 


ON    A.    TOUR.  37 

If,  children  of  the  self-same  sire, 

We've  quarrel'd  now  and  then, 
'Twas  only  in  our  early  youth, 

And  not  since  we  were  men. 

"  And  if,  with  cautious,  cooler  blood, 

Result  of  sufferings  keen, 
I  sometimes  think  you  move  too  fast, 

Mistake  not  what  I  mean. 
I've  felt  the  follies  of  my  youth, 

The  errors  of  my  prime, 
And  dreamed  for  you — my  father's  son — 

A  future  more  sublime. 

"And  here's  my  hand,  'tis  freely  given, 

I  stretch  it  o'er  the  brine, 
And  wish  you,  from  my  heart  of  hearts, 

A  higher  life  than  mine. 
Together  let  us  rule  the  world, 

Together  work  and  thrive  ; 
For  if  you're  only  twenty-one,       N 

I'm  scarcely  thirty-five. 

"  And  I  have  strength  for  nobler  work 

Than  e'er  my  hand  has  done, 
And  realms  to  rule  and  truths  to  plant 

beyond  the  rising  sun. 
Take  you  the  West  and  I  the  East ! 

We'll  spread  ourselves  abroad, 
With  trade  and  spade,  and  wholesome  laws, 

And  faith  in  Man  and  God. 

"  Take  you  the  West  and  I  the  East ! 

We  speak  the  self-same  tongue 
That  Milton  wrote,  that  Chatham  spoke, 

And  Burns  and  Shakspeare  sung ; 
And  from  our  tongue,  our  hand,  our  heart, 

Shall  countless  blessings  flow, 
To  light  two  darkened  hemispheres 

That  know  not  where  they  go. 

3 


38  BELLE    BRITTAN 

"  Our  Anglo-  Saxon  name  and  fame, 

Our  Anglo-Saxon  speech, 
Received  their  mission  straight  from  Heaven 

To  civilize  and  teach. 
So  here's  my  hand — I  stretch  it  forth  ; 

Ye  meaner  lands  look  on  ! 
From  this  day  hence  there's  friendship  firm 

'Twixt  Jonathan  and  John!" 

They  shook  their  hands,  this  noble  pair, 

And  o'er  the  "  electric  chain" 
Come  daily  messages  of  Peace 

And  Love  betwixt  them  twain. 
When  other  nations,  sore  oppressed, 

Lie  dark  in  Sorrow's  night, 
They  look  to  Jonathan  and  John, 

And  hope  for  coming  light. 

The  effect  was  electrical.  It  brought  every  man 
to  his  feet,  and  made  every  eye  sparkle  with  the 
generous  glow  of  fraternal  fellowship.  It  will  bind 
the  two  nations  together  closer  than  the  Atlantic 
cable,  and  is  worth  more  than  all  the  international 
speeches  of  the  American  Congress  and  the  British 
Parliament.  Philosophy,  philanthropy,  fraternity, 
and  "  manifest  destiny,"  are  nobly  linked  together 
in  the  golden  chain  ;  and  it  will  live  a  perpetual  in 
spiration  in  every  Anglo-Saxon  heart,  as  long  as  we 

"  Speak  the  self-same  tongue 

That  Milton  wrote,  that  Chatham  spoke, 
And  Burns  and  Shakspeare  sung."  . 

After  such  a  beating  up  of  enthusiasm,  every  man 


ON    A   TOUR.  39 

present  spoke  under  the  strong  pressure  of  a  poetic 
impulse.  Not  one  hesitated,  when  called  upon,  to 
respond ;  and  the  world  loses  much  for  lack  of  the 
presence  of  the  stenographic  reporters.  Your  "fair 
correspondent"  was  handsomely  toasted,  and  poeti 
cally  "called  out"  by  Dr.  Mackay,  whose  graceful t 
compliments  fell  upon  her  bended  head  like  a  gentle 
rain  of  flowers. 

Believing,  with  my  model  Christian  hero,  Paul,  that 
it  is  unseemly  for  woman  to  speak  in  public  (I  never 
wish  to  speak  to  more  than  one  person  at  a  time),  I 
called  on  Col.  Fuller,  my  nearest  friend  and  most  devot 
ed  companion,  to  respond  in  my  behalf.  I  wish  I  had 
both  the  memory  and  the  space  to  give  you  his  heart 
felt  words,  poured  forth  in  grateful  homage  to  Poetry 
and  Song.  He  spoke  of  the  great  rareness  of  the  true 
poet ;  and  compared  him  to  the  century  plant,  that 
sweetens  the  darkness  of  the  ages  ;  of  the  delicacy  of 
his  organization — the  fineness  of  his  ear — the  tender 
ness  of  his  heart ;  and  compared  him  to  that  cun 
ning  little  eclectic,  the  honey-bee,  which  steals  for  us 
the  sweet  secret  of  the  flowers,  &c.,  &c.,  and  ended 
with  the  following  "  sentiment "  :  "  SONG — That  little 
golden  cup  which  all  of  us  have  sometimes  borrowed, 
by  which  to  convey  to  the  lips  of  woman  the  loving 
libations  of  our  hearts."  But  I  must  not  let  my  pen 


40  BELLE    BRITTAN 

run  beyond  my  limits  ;  and  the  poem  I  enclose  will 
make  this  imperfect  report  of  our  poetic  banquet  ac 
ceptable  to  all  your  readers.  Excuse  the  casket  for 
the  sake  of  the  jewel.  This  is  the  last  Capital  let 
ter  you  will  get  from  Belle  Brittan. 


LETTER    No.    VI. 


McCujRE  HOUSE,  WHEELING, 
Jan.  17.  1858. 


MY  DEAR : 

M'ME  DE  STAEL  says,  "  traveling  is  a  sad  pleasure;" 
and  I  thought  so  too,  as  I  took  my  seat  in  the  car 
yesterday  morning,  in  Washington,  before  daylight, 
with  a  journey  of  650  miles  before  me.  The  day 
was  dark  and  dreary,  and  the  rain  it  rained  and  was 
never  weary  ;  and,  more  than  all,  I  was  altogether 
"  out  of  sorts,"  owing  to  a  week's  suffering  from  an 
attack  of  the  prevailing  "Washington  influenza" — 
the  result  of  late  hours,  over-heated  rooms,  and  other 
"  Capital  offences"  against  nature. 

We  left  (and  this  means  one  more  than  the  usual 
editorial  "  we  ")  at  six  o'clock  ;  and,  after  wheeling 
all  day  and  all  night,  arrived  at  Wheeling  at  half- 
past  five  o'clock  this  morning,  a  distance  of  400  miles ; 


ON    A    TOUR.  41 

and  in  which  we  have  to  overcome  the  Alleghany 
mountains.  My  regret  is,  that  the  sublimest  passage 
of  our  journey  was  made  in  the  night ;  and  that,  too, 
in  a  night  of  unrelieved  darkness.  To  get  a  train  of 
cars  safely  down  the  side  of  a  high  and  precipitous 
mountain  was  truly  a  difficult  problem  ;  but  the  stu 
pendous  thought  has  been  bravely  Conceived,  and 
magnificently  engineered.  We  zig-zag  down  on  a 
track  that  reminds  one  of  the  diagonal  bars  which 
ladies  sometimes  wear  across  their  bosoms.  If  the 
reader  does  not  catch  the  idea,  I  cannot  stop  to  ex 
plain  it.  And,  strange  to  say,  "  Appleton's  Illustrated 
Hand  Book  "  altogether  overlooks  this  almost  miracu 
lous  achievement — surpassing,  in  bold  ingenuity, 
Napoleon's  famous  conquest  of  the  Alps.  Can  any 
body  give  us  the  name  of  the  "  original  inventor  ?" 

The  most  picturesque  scenery  on  the  road  (or  that 
portion  of  it  which  we  saw  by  daylight)  is  in  the 
vicinity  of  Harper's  Ferry.  The  rftost  enthusiastic 
artists  and  tourists  have  not  exaggerated  the  bold 
ness,  wildness,  and  variety  of  its  beauties.  The 
smoky  city  of  Cumberland  has  sombre  associations  to 
thousands  who  have  been  ruined  by  speculating  in 
its  mining  stocks  ;  but  I  chance  to  remember  it  more 
pleasantly  in  connection  with  the  following  nursery 
anecdote :  A  certain  little  lady,  at  the  tender  age  of 


42 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


two  years,  who  had  been  repeatedly  promised  to  be 
taken  on  a  visit  to  her  cousins  in  Cumberland,  pop 
ping  down  on  her  little  knees,  the  night  before  mak 
ing  the  expected  journey,  to  repeat  the  classic  for 
mula  of  infantile  devotion,  and,  being  "  full  of  the 
subject,"  ventured  upon  a  line  of  extemporaneous 
addition : 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep. 
If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take 
To  Cumberland  in  the  morning  /" 

It  is  a  larger-looking  city  than  I  expected  to  see, 
and  seems  to  be  penetrating  the  mountains  in  all  di 
rections.  But  I  have  not  time  to  dwell  upon  the 
many  points  of  interest  on  the  road.  It  is  somewhat 
surprising  that  this  great  work  has  not  been  sketched, 
and  described,  and  illustrated  in  a  style  worthy  of  its 
rare  merits ;  and  the  passage  over  it  yesterday  of  the 
poet-editor  of  the  Illustrated  London  News,  whose 
fine,  artistic  eye  lets  no  work  of  beauty  or  grandeur 
escape  him,  may,  perhaps,  form  an  era  in  the  history 
of  the  Baltimore  and  Ohio  Railroad  Company.  In 
England,  such  a  road,  running  through  such  a  pic 
ture  gallery  of  nature,  would  have  been  popularized 
by  paintings,  panoramas,  and  tales  throughout  the 
country.  I  regret  to  learn,  that  the  receipts  of  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  43 

company  have  fallen  off  heavily  the  past  year  ;  and 
like  most  of  our  great  railroads,  (all  the  greatest  of 
them)  the  enterprise  "  don't  pay."  The  only  remedy 
is  to  raise  the  fare ;  and  if  travel  diminishes,  run 
fewer  trains. 

Traveling,  I  have  quoted,  "  is  a  sad  pleasure."  I 
have  seldom  entered  a  car,  about  to  start  on  a  long 
journey,  without  noticing,  especially  in  the  "ladies' 
car,"  eyes  red  with  weeping.  There  is  always  some 
body  bidding  somebody  a  long,  if  not  an  everlasting 
farewell ;  and  the  final  scream  of  the  departing  en 
gine  is  like  a  knell  of  death  to  some  fond  heart.  I 
remarked  this  yesterday  on  leaving  "Washington, 
when  the  tears  of  one  poor  woman  seated  near  me 
fell  like  rain ;  although  she  appeared  to  have  her 
husband  and  children,  who  should  be  all  the  world 
to  her,  at  her  side.  But  still  she  wept  and  sobbed 
behind  her  veil  for  the  loved  ones  she  was  leaving. 
A  little  further  on,  I  chanced  to  be  seated  near 
another  lady,  with  black  hair,  large,  luminous  eyes, 
and  very  pale  che,eks,  revealing  at  a  glance  the 
"  touch  of  Sorrow's  wing."  On  hearing  me  cough, 
she  gently  and  graciously  proposed  to  close  the  win 
dow,  although  afterwards  confessing  that  the  close 
and  heated  car  made  her  very  sick.  Moved  by  mu 
tual  sympathy,  always  the  best  of  introductions, 


44  BELLE    BRITTAN 

we  gradually  melted  into  conversation ;  from  which 
I  learned  that  traveling,  to  her,  was  truly  a  "  sad 
pleasure."  She  had  been  confined  twenty-two  weeks 
to  her  room  by  a  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  and  was 
flying  to  the  softer  South,  to  save  her  consumptive 
life.  What  touching  tenderness  suffering  creates ! 
None  can  love  who  have  not  suffered ;  and  none  can 
truly  love  without  suffering. 

"  Who  hath  not  his  bread  in  sorrow  eat, 
He  knows  you  not,  ye  Heavenly  Powers." 

The  great  physical  discomfort  of  the  journey  was 
the  over-heated  atmosphere  of  the  cars.  We  had  a 
fire  demon  on  board,  who  was  all  the  way  crowding 
the  red-hot  "  salamander"  with  wood,  and  the  heat 
at  times  was  almost  suffocating.  It  actually  caused 
a  burning  sensation  to  the  hand  to  wave  it  through 
the  heated  and  devitalized  air  of  the  car.  The 
conductor  was  extremely  taciturn,  scarcely  giving  a 
civil  answer  to  a  civil  question,  and  evidently  reluc 
tant  to  give  us  any  information  touching  the  way 
side  scenes  and  incidents  of  the  journey.  He  seemed 
to  be  more  engrossed  in  his  attentions  to  one  or  two 
"female  women"  on  board  than  by  the  general 
duties  of  his  position.  The  president  and  directors 
of  all  railroad  companies  should  have  a  sharp  eye  on 
the  manners  as  well  as  on  the  morals  of  their  em- 


ON    A    TOUR.  45 

ployees,  especially  such  of  them  as  come  in  direct 
contact  with  the  passengers,  and  who  have  it  in 
their  power  to  contribute  much  to  the  comfort  or 
discomfort  of  the  traveler. 

On  arriving  at  the  "  McClure  House  "  (one  of  the 
hotels  that  we  read  of),  not  a  drop  of  hot  drink  of 
any  description  could  be  had ;  and  when,  like  the 
Irishman  who  dreamed  of  ordering  whisky  hot,  and 
woke  up  before  it  came,  we  concluded  to  "  take  it 
cowld"  not  even  that  nor  anything  else  could  be  had, 
bibible  or  edible.  After  twenty-four  hours  of  hard 
railing,  bad  eating,  and  worse  sleeping,  to  turn  into 
a  cold  bed,  in  a  cold  room,  "on  a  cold  stomach," 
was  the  coldest  sort  of  comfort.  And  yet,  in  all  the 
parlors  and  reception-rooms,  good  bituminous  fires 
were  burning.  Coal  is  cheap,  but  hot  water  is  not 
to  be  had. 

"Wheeling  is  a  city  of  some  twenty  thousand  in 
habitants  ;  but  as  yet,  I  have  only  seen  the  tops  of 
its  murky  houses.  To  judge  of  it  from  such  a  point 
of  view,  would  be  like  giving  an  opinion  of  a  man 
after  seeing  only  the  top  of  his  head — especially  as 
the  roofs  here  to-day  have  a  little  "  scratch  "  of  snow 
on  them. 

We  have  passed  the  region  of  buckwheat  cakes. 
Alas! 

3* 


BUBNET  HOUSE,  CINCINNATI, 
Jan.  20,  1858. 


46  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    VII. 

MY  DEAR : 

WE  left  the  dingy,  dreary,  dismal  city  of  "Wheel 
ing  (I  will  not  use  any  more  adjectives  beginning  with 
d  to  describe  it)  at  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing,  and  reached  Cincinnati  at  eleven  o'clock  at 
night — distance,  260  miles.  Falling,  fortunately, 
into  the  hands  of  two  very  intelligent  and  gentle 
manly  conductors  (Mr.  Marrow,  to  Columbus,  and 
Mr.  Bradley  to  this  place),  the  long  journey  was 
shortened,  and  softened,  and  enlightened  by  their 
company.  I  must  convey  to  these  kind  strangers  my 
grateful  acknowledgments  for  the  information  they 
gave  me  touching  various  points  of  interest  on  the 
road ;  and  for  their  gallant  attentions  to  your  "  fair 
correspondent." 

The  country  through  which  we  passed  oppressed 
me  with  one  thought — its  inexhaustible  and  unde 
veloped  resources.  There  were  immense  corn-fields, 
which  had  yielded  bountiful  harvests  of  corn  for 
twenty,  thirty,  forty,  successive  years,  and  with 
rather  an  annual  increase  than  diminution  of  the 
number  of  bushels  to  the  acre.  These  fields  are  not 
manured — not  "  cultivated ;"  merely  planted  and 


ON    A    TOUR.  47 

harvested;  and  the  golden  corn,  for  lack  of  labor, 
is  not  yet  all  gathered  (and  it  is  mid-winter)  from 
thousands  and  thousands  of  acres.  The  coal  pits  also 
seem  to  be  inexhaustible.  At  Wheeling,  rich,  bitu 
minous  coal  sells  at  a  cent  and  a  half  a  bushel ;  and 
yet,  for  consuming  less  than  half  a  bushel,  the  ho 
tels  charge  a  dollar.  But  the  most  wasteful  sight  is 
the  rotting  timber  that  strews  the  forests  and  the 
fields  for  hundreds  of  miles.  Wood  is  of  no  account, 
but  an  encumbrance.  The  trees  are  girdled  and  left 
to  die,  and  fall,  and  rot,  and  disappear.  Why  will 
multitudes  of  human  beings  continue  to  linger  and 
starve  in  large  cities,  when  nature  is  everywhere  in 
viting  them  to  come  and  partake  of  her  generous 
bounties ;  and  to  live  purer,  healthier,  and  happier 
lives  ?  Why  will  men  seek  to  live  by  trading,  steal 
ing,  lying,  and  begging,  when  there  is  room,  and 
work,  and  wealth  for  all  in  the  beautiful  and  fruitful 
wilderness  of  the  West  ?  Why  continue  to  traffic  in 
rags  or  rum  ;  in  jewelry  or  gin  ;  in  knick-knacks  or 
gim-cracks  ;  in  fish  or  finance  ?  or  why  crowd  the 
"learned  professions,"  and  live  like  leeches  on  the 
life-blood  of  others,  when,  by  a  small  investment  in 
seed  corn  and  vine  roots,  one  may  "  realize"  a  sure 
and  honest  "return"  for  capital  and  labor — thirty, 
sixty,  or  an  hundred-fold,  besides  feeling  that  he  is 


48  BELLE    BRITTAN 

prosecuting  a  "legitimate  business,"  and  working,  as 
it  were,  in  the  garden  of  (rod,  like  the  primitive  man 
in  Paradise  ? 

I  am  more  than  pleased  with  Cincinnati.  It  is  a 
fine,  flourishing  city.  The  streets  are  clean  and  reg 
ular,  and  the  buildings,  private  and  public,  are 
generally  in  good  taste,  and  quite  up  to  the  Metro 
politan  standard.  The  Burnet  House,  the  Court 
House,  the  Post  Office,  and  some  of  the  retail  and 
wholesale  stores,  would  show  well  among  the  hotels, 
the  public  edifices,  and  the  trading  palaces  of  New- 
York.  But  the  novelties,  or  "  lions,"  or  specialties 
of  the  place  are  Longworth's  Wine  Cellars  and  the 
Hog  Factories.  These  are  the  "  peculiar  institu 
tions  "  of  the  place,  and  my  time  thus  far  has  been 
devoted  to  the  mysteries  of  the  pork  chopping  and 
wine  making.  The  slaughter  of  half  a  million  of 
hogs  per  annum  creates  a  business  and  a  revenue 
which  I  will  not  stop  to  calculate,  beyond  the  fact 
that  each  hog  is  worth  as  the  animal  enters  the 
slaughter  mill  about  ten  dollars.  If  the  "  blood  of 
the  swine "  could  Wash  away  the  sins  of  a  city,  Cin 
cinnati  would  be  as  immaculate  as  its  own  lard. 

But  the  blood  of  the  grape  has  for  me  far  greater 
attractions,  as  well  as  pleasanter  associations,  and 
Longworth  is  the  Bacchus  of  the  New  World. 


ON    A    TOUR.  49 

"  The  Roman  mound,  the  Grecian  urn, 

Are  silent  when  we  call ; 
But  still  the  purple  grapes  return, 
And  cluster  on  the  wall." 

I  have  teen  through  cellars  to-day  containing  two 
hundred  thousand  bottles  of  "  Catawba,"  and  seen 
casks  holding  twelve  thousand  bottles  each  of  the 
precious  nectar.  The  vintage  of  1854  is  just  now 
being  finally  prepared  for  market,  and  it  is  pro 
nounced  superior  to  that  of  any  other  season.  It  is 
perfectly  delicious.  We  were  also  treated  to  a  glass 
of  "  Sparkling  Isabella"  from  the  fountain  head, 
which  was  "  drank  in  silence  and  standing,"  to  the 
health  of  one  whose  name  is  even  more  inspiring 
than  wine  : — 

"  I  drink  this  cup,  to  one  made  up 

Of  loveliness  alone  ; 
A  being  of  her  gentle  sex, 

The  seeming  paragon  ; 
To  whom  the  better  elements 

And  kindly  stars  have  given 
A  form  so  fair,  that  like  the  air, 

She's  less  of  earth  than  heaven." 

Of  course,  the  sentiment  was  proposed  by  a 
gentleman.  But  I  have  not  time  to-day  to  "do  jus 
tice"  to  this  delightful  subject.  I  shall  return  to  it, 
I  promise  you,  again  and  again.  For  the  time  being 
I  have  abandoned  tea,  coffee,  and  all  common  drinks, 
and  use  the  Ohio  water  for  purposes  of  ablution  only. 


50  BELLE    BRITTAN 

Before  I  leave  I  mean  to  bathe  in  "  Catawba ;"  and 
if  I  am  "  born  to  be  drowned,"  Heaven  send  that  it 
may  be  in  an  element  so  divine  as  the  blood  of  the 
wine  benign. 

"  There  grows  no  vine1 

By  the  haunted  Rhine, 
By  Danube  or  Guadalquiver, 

Nor  on  island  or  cape, 

That  bears  such  a  grape 
As  grows  by  the  Beautiful  River. 

"  Very  good  in  their  way 

Are  the  Verzenay 
And  the  Sillery,  soft  and  creamy 

But  Catawba  wine 

Has  a  taste  more  divine, 
More  dulcet,  delicious,  and  dreamy." 

The  poet,  Mackay,-  delivered  a  lecture  on  Song, 
last  evening,  to  a  delighted  crowd  of  two  thousand 
persons.  The  next  lecture,  before  the  Mercantile 
Library  Association,  will  be  given  by  the  late  editor 
of  the  New- York  Mirror,  who  has  sometimes,  strange 
to  say,  been  complimented  as  the  author  of  the 
letters  signed  BELLE  BRITTAN. 


ON    A    TOUR.  51 

LETTER    No.    VIII. 

January  24,  1858. 


MY  DEAR 


THE  first  visit  to  a  city  is  like  an  introduction  to  a 
stranger — we  give  a  glance  and  take  an  impression, 
always,  and  instantly,  either  favorable  or  unfavorable  ; 
and,  as  far  as  my  experience  goes,  a  "  better  acquain 
tance  "  usually  confirms  the  first  impression.  Every 
body  we  meet  attracts  or  repels  us  at  the  first  sight ; 
and  I  hold  it  an  honest  obedience  to  the  law  of  na 
ture,  to  follow  my  impulses  as  far  as  the  duties,  the 
proprieties,  and  the  conventionalities  of  society  will 
permit.  If  the  new  acquaintance  is  attractive,  fol 
low  it  up  ;  if  repulsive,  drop  it,  and  thus  avoid  hy 
pocrisy.  So  much  for  the  "  elective  affinities,"  to  say 
nothing  of  the  "  passional  attractions." 

I  like  Cincinnati — its  hotels,  its  houses,  its  streets, 
its  women,  and  its  wines.  When  a  certain  gentle 
man  was  introduced  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington  as  a 
citizen  of  Cincinnati,  the  old  duke  remembered  the 
place  as  the  home  of  Miss  Grroesbeck,  and  the  city  of 
Catawba  wine.  I  shall  also  associate  it  with  choice 
wine  and  winsome  women  ;  for  here  I  found  "  BEL 
SMITH  "  at  home,  and  the  pure  juice  of  the  grape  as 
delicious  and  as  gushing  as — 


52  BELLE    BRITTAN 

"  Great  Nature's  Nile, 

That  rises  higher  than  Egypt's  river." 

I  have  also  met  many  generous,  cultivated  and 
hospitable  gentlemen,  who  seem  to  have  no  business 
and  no  pleasure  but  to  devote  themselves  to  strangers. 
I  may  not  mention  the  names  of  persons,  but  the 
places  of  interest  deserve  a  passing  remark.     The 
city  itself,  now  numbering  nearly  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  inhabitants,  is  well  worth  visiting.     I 
have  met  "  the  man  who  felled  the  first  tree,"  and 
who  is  still  hale  and  active.     Such  rapid  growth  has 
of  course  made  many  of  the  original  settlers  million 
aires,  while  hogs,   grapes,  and  whisky  are  making 
the  fortunes  of  the  rising  generation.      Mr.  Long- 
worth,  who  is  doing  more  for  the  cause  of  health  and 
temperance  than  all  the  quack  "  reformers  "  in  the 
country,  is  very  rich  in  real  estate,  with  seven  hun 
dred  thousand  bottles  of  wine  in  his  cellars.     He  is  a 
very  remarkable  -man — active,  intelligent,  benevo 
lent,  enthusiastic,  and  devoted  to  his  specialty — his 
great  enterprise  of  teaching  the  Americans  the  culti 
vation  of  the  vine,  and  convincing  the  world  that  the 
United  States  can  'produce  a  better  wine,  in  time, 
than  any  of  the  famous  vineyards  of  Europe.     We 
^Jiave  every  variety  of  soil,  situation,  and  climate,  and 
Mr.  Longworth  assures  me  that  we  have  at  least  five 
thousand  varieties  of  the  grape. 


ON    A    TOUR.  53 

On  visiting  his  vineyards  in  the  vicinity  of  the  city, 
which  yield  from  six  to  seven  hundred  gallons  to  the 
acre,  we  found  the  "boss"  to  he  an  old  soldier  of 
Napoleon  the  Great,  and  as  devoted  to  the  memory  of 
the  Emperor  as  he  is  enthusiastic  in  the  culture  of 
the  vine.  Producing  a  very  choice  brand,  of  the  color 
of  amber  ;  and  with  a  bouquet  that  filled  the  room 
(called  the  minor  seedling),  at  the  suggestion  of  the 
company,  it  was  christened  "  Mackay,"  in  honor  of  the 
distinguished  poet,  who  was  present,  and  who  has 
written  a  flowing  anacreontic  in  praise  of  Catawba. 
So  the  wine,  and  the  song,  and  the  song- writer  will 
pass  on  to  mutual  immortality.  Another  specimen 
of  the  nectar,  of  a  most  delicate  aroma  and  a  most  de 
licious  flavor,  with  a  tint  like  the  blush  on  the  cheek 
of  beauty,  was  baptized,  in  honor  of  your  "  fair  cor 
respondent,"  as  the  "  Belle  Brittan  wine."  To  kiss  such 
a  goblet  is  enough  to  intoxicate  a  stoic  ;  and,  as 
Byron  said  of  kisses,  this  also  is  to  be  estimated  by 
the  length. 

"  But  thou,  my  Catawba, 

Art  mild  as  a  rose, 
And  sweet  as  the  lips 

Of  my  love  when  they  close, 
To  give  back  the  kisses 

My  passion  bestows." 

The  hog  killing  I  shall  not  see — it's  a  bloody  busi- 


54  BELLE    BRITTAN 

ness ;  and,  with  all  due  respect  for  the  porkocracy  of 
the  place,  I  am  not  a  believer  in  pork.  Moses  knew 
what  made  the  people  scrofulous,  when  he  forbade 
the  Egyptians  to  eat  it ;  and  yet  I  confess  to  having 
been  tempted  with  ham  here,  which  would  almost 
persuade  a  Jew  to  be  a  Christian — so  rich,  so  rosy,  so 
tender,  and  so  sweetly  saturated  with  sugar  and  spice, 
and  the  smoky  savor  of  burnt  hickory  and  juniper. 
Ah,  yes  !  another  delicate  wafer  of  that,  if  you  please. 
It  may  be  like  forbidden  fruit — all  the  more  exquisite 
to  the  taste,  for  the  bitter  consequences  that  ensue. 
But  there  are  some  temptations  in  this  world,  whose 
strength  I  trust  may  be  offered  as  an  apology  for  the 
weakness  of  the  tempted  ;  and  ham — a  transub 
stantiated,  apotheosized  ham — is  one  of  them  !  Of 
the  whisky,  which  is  manufactured  here  in  enor 
mous  quantities,  I  have  nothing  to  say  in  commenda 
tion,  except,  that  it  is  not  as  bad  as  the  liquor  usually 
sold  under  the  name  of  brandy.  I  am  told  one  firm 
turns  out  twenty-five  hundred  barrels  a  week,  and 
that  the  business  is  very  rapidly  increasing.  It  seems 
to  be  the  common  drink  of  the  people  ;  and  yet  I  am 
assured  that  street  drunkenness  in  Cincinnati  is  ex 
tremely  rare. 

Of  the  drives  in  the  vicinity,  that  to  the  "  Spring 
Grove  Cemetery,"  by  way  of  Clifton,  is  very  beau- 


ON    A    TOUR.  55 

tiful.  The  country  is  rich  and  rolling ;  and  vine-,v 
yards  and- villas  are  springing  up  in  all  directions. 
Among  the  notabilities  residing  in  the  suburbs,  Judge 
McLean  has  a  very  handsome  mansion,  overlooking 
a  lovely  region  of  country.  Mr.  Robert  Buchanan, 
the  author  of  an  admirable  little  volume  on  "  Grape 
Culture,"  has  a  beautiful  vineyard  and  a  fine  house  at 
Clifton.  A  few  years  ago,  he  bought  the  land  of  Mr. 
Longworth  at  fifty  dollars  an  acre  ;  and  it  is  now  worth 
fifteen  hundred  an  acre,  six  acres  of  vines  yielding  an 
income  of  five  thousand  dollars  a  year.  The  ceme 
tery,  like  all  cities  of  the  dead,  is  a  sad,  sweet,  silent 
place,  and  none  but  a  thoughtless  mind  and  a  callous 
heart  can  visit  this  sanctuary  of  rest,  without  an  in 
creased  sympathy  for  human  sorrow,  a  deeper  rever 
ence  for  human  love.  The  paths  that  are  trodden  by 
mourners'  feet,  and  the  grass  that  is  bedewed  by 
mourners'  tears,  must  ever  be  sacred  to  all  who  have 
mourned  and  wept ;  and  he  who  has  not,  loves  neither 
(rod  nor  man. 

The  only  other  "  staple"  of  the  place  which  I  will 
mention  is — the  women — always  a  delicate  and  ten 
der  subject.  Comparisons  are  "odorous  ;"  but  I  must 
say,  that  some  of  the  handsomest  women  I  have  met 
here  have  come  from  "  over  the  river" — from  Old 
Kentucky.  At  a  social  gathering  of  not  over  fifty 
persons,  the  other  evening,  a  large  proportion  of  the 


56  BELLE    BRITTAN 

Jadies  were  Kentuckians,  and  no  less  than  six  of 
them  were  dressed  in  crimson  silk,  and  all' were  fine- 
looking.  Were  I  subject  to  epidemics,  I  should  have 
been  in  danger  of  the  scarlet  fever.  But,  like  one 
who  has  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  whooping  cough,  the 
measles,  the  mumps,  the  —  ,  &c.,  I  feel  that  I  can 
pass  through  a  whole  city  full  of  "dangerous  cases" 
innocuously,  and  defy  even  the  raging  fever  of  the 
red  petticoat,  which  is  just  now  spreading  much 
faster  than  the  Gospel. 


LETTER    No.    IX. 


HOUSE,  CINCINNATI  i 
January  27,  1858.  5 

MY  DEAR  : 

I  STILL  linger  in  this  pleasant  "  Queen  City  of  the 
"West,"  and  shall  leave  its  fine  hotel  and  its  hos 
pitable  people  with  reluctance.  In  a  day  or  two 
from  this  date,  I  expect  to  be  en  route  for  your  gay 
and  sunny  city,  glancing,  perhaps,  at  Louisville,  St. 
Louis,  &c.,  &c.,  by  the  way.  I  wish  I  could  take 
the  "Burnet  House"  along  with  me,  as  I  have 
found  no  hotel  as  comfortable  since  leaving  New- 
York  ;  yet  I  have  pleasant  recollections  of  your  far- 
famed  "St.  Charles,"  and  know  something  of  its 


ON    A    TOUR.  •  57 

pleasant  and  princely  proprietors.  How  much,  a 
clean,  comfortable,  well-kept  hotel  has  to  do  with 
the  stranger's  first  and  last  impressions  of  a  place  ! 
It  should  be  the  first  consideration  of  every  city  and 
town  to  establish  and  maintain  a  good  home  for 
travelers.  The  spirit  of  hospitality  should  insist 
upon  the  maintenance  of  a  first-rate  public-house. 
Coleman,  of  the  "  Burnet,"  has  been  educated  in  the 
best  school,  and  understands  his  business.  I  am 
glad  that  his  enterprise  and  perseverance  are  being 
liberally  rewarded  ;  and,  despite  some  heavy  losses, 
he  is  already,  I  believe,  the  sole  owner  of  this  mag 
nificent  property,  comprising  the  site,  building,  and 
furniture  of  the  Burnet  House,  worth,  at  least,  half 
a  million  of  dollars. 

The  evening  of  the  25th,  the  ninety-ninth  an 
niversary  of  the  birth-day  of  Robert  Burns,  was  zea 
lously  celebrated  by  a  gathering  of  some  hundred 
and  seventy-five  gentlemen,  all  enthusiastic  lovers 
of  the  poet,  around  a  sumptuous  supper  table,  in  the 
ladies'  ordinary  of  the  "  Burnet."  Mr.  David  Gibson 
presided,  and  the  poet  Mackay,  whose  father  was  a 
personal  friend  of  Burns,  was  the  "  particular  star" 
of  the  night.  A  Scotchman  and  a  poet,  and  the 
grandson  of  the  accomplished  Mrs.  Rose,  so  fre 
quently  and  so  admiringly  mentioned  by  Burns,  in 


58  BELLE    BRITTAN 

his  correspondence,  Maokay  brought  me  (a  delighted 
listener)  nearer  to  the  great  bard  than  I  ever  felt 
before.  His  speech  was  full  of  thought  and  senti 
ment  ;  and  although  not  quite  "  loud"  enough  to 
tickle  these  Western  ears,  it  was  received  with 
marked  enthusiasm.  He  spoke  "  To  the  memory 
of  Burns ;"  and  in  a  most  loving  and  fraternal  spirit. 
I  enclose  a  copy  for  your  private  perusal  or  for  pub 
lication  in  the  Pic,  if  "  space  permit." 

Col.  Fuller,  of  New- York,  being  called  upon  by 
the  President,  spoke  earnestly  in  admiration  of  "the 
poet  whose  genius  no  land  could  monopolize  ;  and 
whose  songs,  day  and  night,  are  sung  unceasingly — 
nerving  the  soldier  in  the  hour  of  battle  to" "  lofty  deeds 
and  daring  high ;"  fanning  in  the  peasant's  breast  the 
peaceful  fires  of  patriotism  ;  keeping  alive  in  the  hu 
man  heart  the  holy  hymn  of  love  ;  and  at  the  sacred 
shrine  of  the  cotter's  hearth,  beating  the  heavenward 
flame  of  devotion."  The  speaker  then  recited  some 
original  stanzas  from  a  song  of  Burns  that  "  could 
not  be  entirely  printed,  not  on  account  of  its  length, 
but  its  breadth ;"  and  also  repeated  a  concluding 
stanza  to  "  John  Anderson  my  Jo,"  written  by 
Charles  Grould,  Esq.,  the  banker  of  New- York,  which 
completes  that  immortal  song,  in  a  manner  quite 
worthy  of  the  "  finish"  in  which  the  poet  left  it.  It 


ON    A    TOUR.  59 

will  be  recollected  that  Burns,  who  distils  this  sweet 
song  from  one  much  older,  much  coarser,  and  much 
longer,  takes  the  good  old  couple  gently  down  the 
hill  of  Life,  and  leaves  them  to  sleep  lovingly  "  the- 
gither  at  the  foot."  Mr.  Grould  exalts  them  into 
heaven,  thus : 

"  John  Ancferson  my  Jo,  John, 

When  we  hae  slept  thegither, 
The  sleep  that  a'  maun  sleep,  John, 

We'll  wake  wi'  ane  anither. 
And  in  that  better  world,  John, 

Nae  sorrow  shall  we  know, 
Nor  fear  we  e'er  shall  part  again, 

John  Anderson  my  Jo." 

Sweet  and  comforting  lines  to  a  pair  of  life-de 
voted  lovers,  who  feel  that  eternity  cannot  exhaust 
their  mutual  affection,  are  they  not  ? 

Col.  Fuller  closed  his  impromptu  speech  with  the 
following  "sentiment" — borrowing,  I  think,  the  lines 
from  Mackay: 

"  The  Poet— 

Who  sings  a  music  to  the  march  of  man — 
The  lark  high  caroling  to  armies  in  the  van." 

Last  evening  I  listened  to  the  same  gentleman, 
who  appeared  as  a  lecturer  (his  first  appearance,  I 
believe)  before  the  "  Young  Men's  Mercantile  Li 
brary  Association."  The  subject  was,  the  evils  of 
the  credit  system — the  miseries  of  debt.  The  lee- 


60  BELLE    BRITTAN 

turer  was  unfortunately  suffering  from  hoarseness 
and  a  sore  throat,  which  impeded  the  flow  of  his 
delivery ;  but  the  views  presented  were  bold  and 
novel,  and  seemed  to  be  well  received.  The  argu 
ment  was  this :  "  Credit  Begets  extravagance ;  ex 
travagance  creates  debt ;  and  debt  drives  men  to 
crime,  to  dissipation,  to  despair.  It  gives  the  mean 
est  man  on  earth  power  to  oppress  the  noblest,  and 
bares  the  generous  bosom  of  Antonio  to  the  blood 
thirsty  knife  of  the  Jew." 

The  following  "  fair  specimen,"  introduced  as  an 
illustration,  comes  pretty  close  home  to  some  of  us : 

"  The  young,  pretty,  exuberant,  and  fashionable  Mrs.  Fitzdazzle, 
of  New- York,  married  a  splendid  establishment,  encumbered  by  a 
man,  whom  the  world  calls  her  husband ;  but  whom  she  always 
addresses,  even  in  private,  as  Mr.  Fitzdazzle.  A  dashing,  volatile, 
ambitious  woman  is  Mrs.  Fitzdazzle,  who  has  been  gaily  '  expand 
ing1  under  the  delightful  delusion  that  her  husband's  income  was 
$100,000  a  year,  one-fourth  of  which  she  found  no  difficulty  in 
spending  for  diamonds  at  Tiffany's,  for  laces  at  Stewart's,  for  bonnets 
at  Ferrero's,  for  a  summer  splurge  at  Newport,  and  for  brilliant  and 
stunning  entertainments  at  home.  And  yet,  paradoxical  as  it  may 
sound,  my  Lady  Fitzdazzle  has  spent  no  money.  She  has  bloomed, 
flourished,  and  spread  herself  like  a  green  bay  tree,  entirely  under 
the  credit  system.  Like  a  watch,  she  ran  on  tick,  until  her  hus 
band,  a  Wall-street  '  operator,'  found  himself '  wound  up' so  tight 
that  his  little  jewel  of  a  wife  could  tick  no  longer.  The  '  Ohio  Life 
and  Trust'  exploded  ;  and  the  house  of  Fitzdazzle  &  Co.  came 
down  with  a  crash,  plunging  his  gay-plumed  wife  into  worse  than 
widowed  woe,  leaving  her  like  the  picture  of  the  dejected  milk  maid 
in  the  old  '  New-England  primer,'  when  '  down  fell  the  pail  of  milk, 
with  all  her  imaginary  happiness.' 


ON    A    TOUR.  61 

"  But  the  moral  to  be  pointed  by  the  tale  of  Mrs.  Fitzdazzle's 
misfortunes  is  this  :  If,  in  all  her  thoughtless,  reckless  extravagance, 
she  had  been  compelled  to  count  out  the  hard  cash,  would  she  have 
parted  with  five  thousand  pretty  little  gold  dollars  for  that  glittering 
necklace  (now  for  sale  at  an  awful  discount),  or  fifteen  hundred 
dollars  for  a  gossamer  shawl,  that  can  be  drawn  through  a  finger  - 
ring,  and  not  warm  enough  to  wrap  a  baby  in ;  or  one  thousand 
dollars  for  that  dashing  dinner  dress,  irreparably  ruined  by  the  up 
setting  of  a  glass  of  claret ;  or  one  hundred  dollars  for  that  delicate 
thimbleful  of  foam,  called  a  pocket  handkerchief!  Certainly  not. 
Mrs.  Fitzdazzle  admired  the  articles  ;  desired  the  articles  in  order  to 
'astonish  the  Browns.'  She  had  only  to  pronounce  the  magic 
words — 'charge  it' — and  the  baubles  are  sent  home.  Mrs.  Fitz 
dazzle  is  but  the  type  of  a  countless  class — the  victim  of  an  extrava 
gance  fostered  by  credit." 

With  this  sad  picture,  sketched,  I  should  judge, 
from  life,  I  will  leave  you  for  a  little  profitable  pri 
vate  meditation.  Perhaps  some  of  your  readers  may 
go  and  do  likewise.  Catch  me  ever  ordering  any 
thing  to  be  " charged "  against  me  again!  I'll  wear 
my  toes  out  of  my  gaiters — all  the  colors  out  of  my 
shawl — all  the  trimmings  out  of  my  bonnet — before 
I'll  ever  run  in  debt  another  dollar !  So  the  lecturer 
of  last  night  has  one  convert,  to  begin  with,  and  I 
mean  to  "organize  a  Hard-currency-pay-as-you-go 
party  ;  and  upon  this  platform,  I  have  a  presidential 
candidate  (and  a  matrimonial  one,  too)  in  my  eye. 
Here's  a  cup  of  Catawba  to  both ! 


62  BELLE    BRITTAN 


LETTER    No.X. 

GALT  HOUSE,  LOUISVILLE,  > 
January  31,  1858.          \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

MY  guardian  angel  mustf  have  protested  against 
my  leaving  Cincinnati,  for  I  started  clouded  with 
presentiments  of  ill,  and  the  journey  hither  was 
a  series  of  disasters.  No  human  bones  were 
broken,  but  several  iron  ones  were  badly  smashed. 
The  evening  before,  I  had  been  detained  and  enter 
tained  at  a  social  party  by  the  peremptory  hospi 
tality  of  our  whole-souled  host  until  nearly  3  A.  M.  ; 
and  between  that  late  or  early  hour  to  prepare  to 
pack,  to  write  P.  P.  C's.,  to  sleep,  to  take  a  private 
breakfast  with  mine  host  of  the  Burnet  House,  and 
to  be  at  the  cars  at  9  A.  M.,  was  rather  "  crowding 
the  mourners."  But  I  was  "  in  for  it,"  and  my 
motto  is  nulla  vestigia,  &c. 

The  day  was  dismal — heavy  clouds  hung  frown 
ing  in  the  heavens,  and  there  were  several  abortive 
atempts  at  a  snow-storm.  Nature  seemed  to  try  to 
do  something  severe,  and  couldn't,  which  only  fretted 
her  the  more ;  and  so  the  day  grew  black,  and  the 
wind  blew  bleak,  and  the  cold  clouds  spitefully  spat 
alternate  snow  and  rain;  and  all  the  way  was  a 


ON    A    TOUR,  63 

muck,  and  all  Ohio  and  Indiana  was  but  a  mass  of 
mud.  So  much  for  the  world  without ;  and  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  that  the  world  within  too  nearly  corres 
ponded  with  the  clouds  above  and  the  mud  below. 
The  Beautiful  River  that  ran  along  by  our  side 
seemed  to  have  been  named  in  the  spirit  of  irony. 
Its  waters  were  turgid  and  its  current  sluggish. 
I  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Ohio  at  Wheel 
ing,  renewed  it  at  Cincinnati,  where  it  is  somewhat 
improved  by  receiving  a  constant  "Licking;"  and 
again  we  have  met  and  "  renewed  our  mutual  assur 
ances,"  &c.,  at  Louisville.  But  I  am  still  unable  to 
sympathize  with  the  enthusiastic  Frenchman  who 
called  it  "  La  Belle  Riviere."  It  is  good  enough  for 
steamboating,  for  sewerage,  and  other  practical  uses  ; 
but  thus  far  I  have  seen  nothing  in  the  stream  or  its 
banks  particularly  romantic  or  poetic.  Besides,  its 
"  ups  and  downs"  make  it  a  treacherous  companion. 
One  never  knows  where  to  find  it ;  and  yet,  not 
having  floated  on  its  yellow  bosom,  I  confess  that  I 
am  not  qualified  to  do  it  justice.  We  are  too  apt  to 
draw  conclusions  from  mere  passing  glimpses. 

To  return  to  the  cars.  The  first  point  of  interest 
on  the  road  was  the  vicinity  of  North  Bend,  where, 
the  evening  before,  the  steamer  Fanny  Fern  exploded, 
killing  some  twenty  persons,  and  wounding  many 


64  BELLE    BRITTAN 

others.  The  spot  was  pointed  out  to  us  ;  but  noth 
ing  remained  above  the  water  to  tell  of  the  catas 
trophe.  The  boat  burned  to  the  water's  edge  and 
sunk.  The  body  of  the  poor  woman  who  sat  nursing 
her  sick  child  has  been  recovered,  and  identified  as 
the  wife  of  Samuel  Evans,  of  Johnson  county,  Mis 
souri,  from  whom  she  had  separated,  and  was  on 
her  way  to  her  early  home  in  Mason  county,  Ken 
tucky.  The  newspapers  are  giving  quite  a  romantic 
interest  to  the  lady's  name  and  destiny.  Our  train 
had  not  proceeded  far  before  my  sombre  train  of 
thought  was  broken  by  a  spasmodic  scream  of  the 
whistle,  and  a  sudden  "breaking  up"  of  the  speed 
of  the  cars.  An  accident  was  announced,  but  not  a 
serious  one.  "We  had  only  run  over  a  hand-car; 
nobody  hurt.  A  few  miles  further  on,  another  shriek 
from  the  throat  of  the  fire-horse,  and  a  fearful  rush 
ing  at  the  "breaks,"  startled  the  passengers  to  their 
feet.  I  felt  the  collision  before  it  came,  but  sat  still, 
as  I  always  do  in  the  first  moment  of  peril — a  mo 
ment  in  which  a  whole  life-time  flashes  over  the 
wires  of  memory.  In  a  second  there  was  a  crash, 
and  a  consciousness  that  the  danger  was  over.  We 
had  run  into  a  freight  train,  smashing  our  engine  and 
baggage  car,  and  throwing  the  hindmost  of  the 
freight  cars  off  the  track.  Nobody  hurt — an  almost 


ON    A    TOUR.  65 

miraculous  escape.  We  had  just  been  taking  in 
wood  and  water,  and  had  not  attained  a  speed  of 
over  ten  miles  an  hour.  Had  the  collision  occurred 
three  minutes,  or,  perhaps,  one  minute  later,  the  re 
sult  would  have  been  fatal  to  some  of  us. 

I  have  traveled  many  thousand  miles  on  American 
railroads,  and  have  never  witnessed  so  fearful  an  ac 
cident  as  this  ;  and  I  am  sorry  to  add,  that  there  is 
no  excuse  for  the  engineers.  It  was  the  result  of  the 
most  culpable,  stolid,  and  reckless  carelessness.  The 
"  responsible  "  parties  on  both  trains  are  unfit  to  com 
mand  a  mud  scow.  We  were  delayed  over  three 
hours,  but  consoled  ourselves  with  the  reflection  that 
all  our  bones  were  whole.  On  arriving  at  Seymour, 
where  a  train  was  waiting  to  take  us  to  Louisville, 
and  where  we  were  due  at  four  o'clock  p.  M.,  the  con 
ductor  assured  us  that  he  could  run  us  in  by  half- 
past  seven,  which  somewhat  relieved  the  nervous 
ness  of  the  poet  Mackay,  who  was  announced  to  lec 
ture  there  at  that  hour  on  that  evening.  But  the 
day  was  an  evil  one.  We  had  got  only  about  twenty- 
five  miles,  half-way  from  Seymour  to  Louisville, 
when  our  engine  broke ;  and  it  was  nearly  nine 
o'clock  when  we  reached  Jeffersonville,  opposite 
this  city,  having  done  the  distance  from  Cincinnati, 
one  hundred  and  forty  miles,  in  twelve  hours. 


66  BELLE    BRITTAN 

But  the  troubles  of  the  day  were  not  yet  ended. 
The  ferryman  had  put  out  his  fires,  and  refused  to 
take  us  across.  And  so,  without  our  baggage,  we 
were  compelled  to  take  shelter  in  a  small  tavern, 
where,  after  fasting  all  day,  we  ordered  u  supper," 
and  a  corkscrew ;  but,  alas !  the  latter  luxury  was 
not  to  be  found.  Suggesting  that  the  much-desired 
instrument  might  possibly  be  borrowed  of  the  drug 
gist,  our  obliging  landlord  started  on  the  errand  of 
love,  and  returned  triumphant.  Your  "  fair  corres 
pondent  "  repaired  to  her  little  "  stateroom,"  ordered 
hot  water  (a  fire  was  out  of  the  question),  uncorked 
a  bottle  of  "  something  good?  and  strong,"  put  into 
her  pocket  by  a  friend,  of  blessed  memory,  in  Cincin 
nati;  got  up  an  internal  glow  with  the  hot  "  prepa 
ration,"  dropped  her  outer  garments,  rolled  herself 
up  like  a  cocoon  in  a  big  shawl,  and  slid  into  bed 
with  a  benison  on  the  man  that  invented  "  brandy 
toddy  hot."  Just  then,  the  following  lines  of  Cow- 
per  slid  into  my  memory — and  I  fell  asleep  at  peace 
with  "all  the  world  and  the  rest  of  mankind  :" 

"  There's  mercy  in  every  place  ; 

And  mercy,  encouraging  thought, 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 
And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot." 

"Were  it  not  a  womanish  weakness,  I  would  relate 
my  dream.     But  let  that  pass.     The  dawn  of  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  67 

morning  saw  comfort  returning.  Crossing  the  river 
in  a  diagonal  ferry,  of  about  a  mile,  we  were  soon  at 
the  "  Gralt  House,"  where  good  rooms,  a  good  break 
fast,  and  a  bright  sunshine  began  to  compensate 
and  to  obliterate  the  mishaps  of  the  yesterday. 
Telle  est  la  vie  !  We  soon  forgot,  in  the  bright 
ness  of  the  present,  all  the  darkness  and  dreariness 
of  the  past ;  and  they  who  walk  on  flowers  to-day, 
forget  the  thorns  that  tore  their  feet  but  yesterday. 
Socrates  declared  that  the  pleasure  he  experienced 
on  being  freed  from  the  thongs  that  had  bound  his 
limbs  more  than  compensated  him  for  all  the  ago 
nies  he  had  suffered  while  tied.  And  when  I  reach 
the  sunny  city  of  the  South,  I  expect,  with  the  first 
breath  of  its  fragrant  atmosphere,  and  the  first 
"smile"  that  greets  me  at  the  St.  Charles,  to  forget 
all  the  disagremens  which  betide  the  traveler  on  his 
way,  even  though  that  way  lead  to  Paradise  itself. 

"  There's  a  good  time  coming,  boys, 
"Wait  a  little  longer." 

P.  S. — I  confess  that  this  is  not  a  very  lady-like 
letter  ;  but  then  one  does  not  always  feel  in  a  lady 
like  mood.  Mrs.  Pecksniff  will  throw  that  glass  of 
brandy  and  water  in  my  face ;  but  I  can  stand  it, 
and  more  too. 


68  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    XI. 

GALT  HOUSE,  LOUISVILLE)  > 
January  1,  1858.        '  ) 

MY  DEAR  : 

THE  great  staples  of  Kentucky  are  whisky  and 
women.  I  have  kissed  both, 'and  prefer  the  latter. 
The  city  of  Louisville  is  the  metropolis  of  the  State. 
I  have  "been  here  two  days  and  not  seen  much  of  the 
place  ;  being  still  the  victim  of  the  prevailing  influ 
enza  which  "  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  The 
population  of  the  city  is  about  sixty-five  thousand  ; 
and  the  hog  business  is  one  of  its  principal  sources 
of  revenue.  L  ast  year  they  despatched  som  e  245 , 000 
of  those  "unclean  beasts;"  about  half  the  number 
killed  and  packed  in  Cincinnati.  Among  the  best 
known  "  institutions"  of  the  place  are — Of.  D.  Pren 
tice  and  the  "  Gralt  House."  The  former  is  not  at 
home — off  on  a  lecturing  tour  ;  but  the  latter  is  over 
flowing  with  hospitality,  a  real  luxury  to  travelers  ; 
good  rooms,  clean  beds,  soft  coal  fires,  and  an  excel 
lent  table.  It  is  one  of  the  most  cosmopolitan  estab 
lishments  in  the  Union ;  and  the  Louisvillians  may 
well  be  proud  of  it. 

The   daily  newspapers   here  are  ably  conducted 
and   widely  known;    and  the   "gentlemen  of  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  69 

press"  are  gentlemen.  Osborne  and  Shipman  of  the 
Journal ;  Harney  of  the  Democrat ;  and  Haldeman 
of  the  Courier  are,  in  ability  and  manners,  above  the 
average  of  the  fraternity.  Louisville  is  the  home  of 
Col.  Preston,  one  of  the  noblest  specimens,  not  only 
of  Kentucky,  but  of  our  American  humanity.  It  is 
rumored  from  Washington  that  the  President  intends 
to  offer  Mr.  Preston  the  mission  to  Spain.  I  hope 
it  is  true.  He  is  the  right  man  for  the  place. 
Young,  good-looking,  eloquent,  accomplished,  "  six 
feet  and  well  proportioned,"  Preston's  presence  would 
add  dignity  and  grace  to  any  court  in  Christendom. 
The  United  States  have  been  too  often  misrepre 
sented  abroad  by  coarse,  vulgar,  ignorant  and  ill- 
looking  men ;  and  Mr.  Buchanan  will  confer  a 
special  favor  on  every  American  citizen  by  making 
ministers  of  such  men  as  Preston. 

At  a  little  after  daylight  this  morning,  a  vigorous 
female  cry  of  fire,  in  the  hall  of  the  Gralt  House, 
hurried  us  out  of  bed  with  the  alarm  that  the  hotel 
was  on  fire.  On  rushing  to  the  window  I  found  the 
building  opposite — across  a  narrow  street — in  flames. 
It  was  a  magnificent,  though  a  fearful  spectacle. 
The  snow  was  falling  rapidly ;  and  the  flakes  of  fire 
and  the  flakes  of  snow  mingling  in  the  atmosphere, 
like  a  shower  of  pearls  and  rubies,  presented  a 
3* 


70  BELLE    BRITTAN 

scene  I  will  not  attempt  to  describe.  The  burning 
building  was  occupied  as  a  warehouse  for  alcohol, 
cologne,  &c.,  and  the  exploding  casks  and  the  falling 
walls  added  the  element  of  grandeur  to  the  pyro 
technic  exhibition.  Just  at  this  moment,  Mr.  Raine, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Gralt  House,  who  had  been 
lying  at  the  point  of  death  for  several  days,  took  his 
departure  for  "that  bourne  from  which  no  traveler 
returns."  The  excitement  of  the  alarm  snapt  the 
attenuated  thread  of  life ;  and  the  spirit  mounted, 
through  storm  and  fire,  into  the  serener  "  Land  of 
the  Hereafter."  The  deceased  is  much  lamented. 
All  the  servants  and  slaves  mourn  his  loss.  He  was 
a  single  man  ;  about  fifty  years  of  age ;  a  native  of 
Kentucky  ;  and  had,  during  his  five  years  of  pro 
prietorship,  given  the  Gait  House  a  high  and  wide 
reputation.  His  disease  was  consumption,  which 
had  confined  him  to  his  room  for  three  or  four  weeks. 
My  gallant  friend  Coleman,  of  the  Burnet  House, 
who  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Mr.  Raine, 
spoke  of  him  warmly  as  a  "good  fellow" — a  com 
mon  phrase  of  commendation,  and  yet  one  of  the 
very  best  of  epitaphs. 

The  poet  Mackay,  who  is  en  route  for  your  city, 
will  deliver  a  lecture  here  to-night,  and  leave  in  the 
morning  for  St.  Louis,  where  he  proposes  to  take  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  71 

boat  on  Friday,  due  in  New- Orleans  on  Tuesday  or 
Wednesday.  (Will  our  friends  of  the  "  overflowing 
St.  Charles"  make  a  note  of  this  ?)  Before  leaving 
Cincinnati,  while  under  the  inspiration  of  Long- 
worth's  nectar,  Mackay's  exuberant  Muse  descanted 
the  following  sweet  song,  of  which  the  readers  of  the 
Pic  will  have  the  first  smack : 

CATAWBA. 


Ohio's  green  hill-tops 

Glow  bright  in  the  sun, 
And  yield  us  more  treasure 

Than  Rhine  or  Garonne  ; 
They  give  us  Catawba, 

The  pure  and  the  true, 
As  radiant  as  sunlight, 

As  soft  as  the  dew, 
And  fragrant  as  gardens 

When  summer  is  new. 
Of  all  the  gold  vintage, 

The  purest  and  best — 
Catawba,  the  nectar 

And  balm  of  the  West. 


Champagne  is  too  often 

A  trickster  malign, 
That  flows  from  the  apple 

And  not  from  the  vine. 
But  thou,  my  Catawba, 

Art  mild  as  a  rose, 
And  sweet  as  the  lips  of 

My  love,  when  they  close, 


72  BELLE    BRITTAN 

To  give  back  the  kisses 
My  passion  bestows. 

Thou'rt  born  of  the  vintage, 
And  fed  on  its  breast, 

Catawba,  the  nectar 
And  balm  of  the  West. 


When  pledging  the  lovely, 

This  sparkler  we'll  kiss  ; 
"When  drinking  to  true  hearts, 

We'll  toast  them  in  this — 
For  Catawba  is  like  them, 

Though  tender,  yet  strong, 
As  pleasant  as  morning, 

As  soft  as  a  song, 
Whose  delicate  beauty 

The  echoes  prolong  ; — 
Catawba  !  Heart-warmer ! 

Soul-cheerer !  life- zest! 
Catawba,  the  nectar 

And  balm  of  the  West. 

This  song,  and  Longfellow's  poem,  will  cause  such 
a  run  on  Longworth's  cellars,  that  I  fear  his  "  stock 
on  hand,"  large  as  it  is,  will  he  exhausted  before 
another  vintage  is  ready  for  the  market.  Tip  a  wink 
to  mine  host  of  the  St.  Charles  to  get  in  a  liberal 
supply  of  "  Longworth's  Still  and  Sparkling;"  and 
to  be  sure  and  have  a  dozen  or  so  well  iced,  on  the 
arrival  of,  yours  and  theirs, 

BELLE  BRITTAN. 


ON    A    TOUR.  73 


LETTER    No.  XII. 


ST.  Louis  AND  So  FORTH, 
February  7,  1858. 


MY  DEAR  : 

ST.  Louis  is  destined  to  be  a  great  city — the  New- 
York  of  the  interior.  The  journey  hither  from 
Louisville  is  tedious,  and  not  particularly  interesting. 
But  perhaps  my  "impressions  by  the  way"  are  less 
favorable  and  less  just  in  consequence  of  the  mishaps 
that  have  attended  us  since  leaving  Cincinnati.  On 
leaving  Louisville,  we  had  not  run  a  hundred  rods 
from  the  depot  before  there  was  a  jolt  and  a  cry — 
"  the  engine  is  off  the  track !"  The  switches  had 
been  neglected,  and  the  eyes  of  the  engineer  were 
not  in  the  right  place,  and  so  we  were  stuck  fast  in 
the  mud.  Returning  to  the  city,  which  we  origi 
nally  entered  under  a  series  of  difficulties,  I  sum 
moned  to  my  aid  all  the  patience  and  resignation  at 
my  command,  and  "  laid  over"  at  the  Gralt  House 
until  one  o'clock  at  night,  when  we  took  a  second 
start ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  three  mortal  hours 
wearily  wasted  in  waiting  for  the  train  at  Seymour, 
(one  of  the  most  Grod-and-man-forsaken  places  I  have 
ever  seen,  not  even  excepting  Jeffersonville),  we 
reached  the  great  metropolis  of  the  Mississippi  at 


74  BELLE    BRITTAN 

T 

about  4  o'clock  p.  M.,  a  distance  of  some  three  hun 
dred  and  fifty  miles.  What  should  we  have  done  by 
the  way  but  for  the  bottled  consolation  sent  us  by  a 
Louisville  lady  of  blessed  memory  ?  I  have  some 
times  been  sacrilegious  enough  to  moisten  my  pro 
fane  lips  with  a  wine  bearing  the  sacred  name  of 
"  Lachrymse  Christi,"  but  it  does  not  compare  in  the 
quality  of  inspiration  with  the  Smiles  of  Christy, 
which  have  kept  my  spirits  from  sinking  into  my 
gaiters  during  the  long,  sleepless,  and  perilous  nights 
of  this  monotonous  journey. 

A.  good  room,  with  a  good  fire,  at  the  Planters'  Ho 
tel,  a  warm  bath,  and  ten  blessed  hours  of  most  obli 
vious  sleep,  and  I  am  again  reconciled,  arid  ready  to 
receive  agreeable  impressions,  and  to  reciprocate  as 
best  I  may.  How  pretty  the  chambermaid  looked, 
who  came  to  my  room  before  I  was  dressed,  with  a 
handful  of  letters  from  home.  Blessings  on  that 
great  and  glorious  institution,  the  post-office,  which 
bridges  over  the  long  chasm  of  twelve  hundred  miles 

between  me  and .  Without  communication, 

absence  would  be  death. 

I  have  said  that  St.  Louis  is  bound  to  be  a  big 
city.  It  cannot  be  otherwise.  It  is  manifest  des 
tiny.  The  people  of  the  place  feel  that  it  must 
be  so,  and  are  governing  themselves  accordingly. 


ON    A    TOUR.  75 

Everything  is  projected  on  a  large  scale,  as  if  the  men 
who  are  laying  out  the  streets,  and  the  architects 
who  are  planning  the  public  buildings,  were  inspired 
by  the  vastness  of  the  mighty  river,  the  richness  of 
the  surrounding  country,  and  the  multiplicity  of  rail 
roads,  all  converging  here  as  to  a  common  centre  of 
commerce,  to  conceive  plans  commensurate  with 
the  future  magnificence  of  the  great  metropolis  of  the 
"West.  The  population  of  the  city  is  now  about  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  I  don't  hesitate  to  put 
the  prediction  on  record  that  it  will  be  double  in 
Jive  years.  It  shows,  therefore,  that  all  who  own 
real  estate  in  and  around  St.  Louis  have  only  to  sit 
still,  with  the  blessed  sensation  of  growing  rich. 
The  late  financial  crisis  has  caused  a  temporary 
check.  Two  immense  hotels,  commenced  last  year, 
are  waiting  in  the  embryo  for  the  tide  of  returning 
prosperity.  But  neither  these  nor  other  great  en 
terprises  will  have  to  wait  long. 

The  resources  of  Missouri,  which  have  scarcely 
begun  to  be  developed,  are  inexhaustible  ;  the  Iron 
Mountain  alone,  which  will  be  reached  by  railroad 
on  the  1st  of  March  next,  is  worth  more  to  the  State 
and  to  the  world  than  all  the  gold  fields  in  California. 
It  contains  iron  enough — and  that,  too,  almost  in  a 
state  of  purity — to  supply  all  the  building  material 


76  BELLE    BRITTAN 

and  railroad  tracks  of  both  hemispheres  for  a  thousand 
years.  The  Iron  Mountain  is  one  of  the  wonders  of 
the  world.  I  regret  I  have  not  time  to  visit  it.  This 
vast  lump  of  metal  may  have  fallen  from  some  other 
sphere  millions  of  years  ago.  Who  knows  to  the  con 
trary  ?  Will  our  scientific  geologists  please  take  a 
look  at  the  anomaly,  and  tell  us  what  it  means  ? 

Among  the  public  buildings  of  St.  Louis,  the  Cus 
tom-house,  the  Merchants'  Exchange,  the  Court 
house,  and  the  Mercantile  Library  Building  are  all 
worthy  of  a  visit.  The  latter  institution  has  the 
finest  rooms  for  lecturing  and  library  purposes  I  have 
seen.  The  reading-room,  adorned  with  paintings  and 
statuary,  is  admirably  arranged  and  conducted ;  and 
to  the  pleasant-faced  President  of  the  Association,  a 
good-looking  young  bachelor  merchant,  your  "  fair 
correspondent "  is  particularly  indebted  for  most  assi 
duous  and  acceptable  attentions.  The  newspapers  of 
the  city  seem  to  be  expanding  with  the  place.  They 
are  all  of  the  blanket-sheet  dimensions  ;  and  the  He- 
publican,  whose  proprietors  are  coining  money,  is 
quite  equal,  superficially,  if  not  editorially,  to  the 
New-York  Courier  and  Enquirer. 

The  society  of  St.  Louis,  judging  from  what  I  saw 
at  a  wedding  jam,  is  decidedly  metropolitan,  almost 
cosmopolitan.  Many  of  the  young  ladies  have  been 


ON    A    TOUR.  77 

educated  in  New- York,  and  at  the  bridal  gathering, 
at  which  I  had  the  pleasure  of  "  assisting,"  I  met 
thre»  or  four  opening  flowers  who  had  just  graduated 
from  M'me  Oakhill's  and  M'me  Canda's,  with  all  the 
airs  and  graces  of  those  "model  institutions."     One 
of  these  was  pointed  out  as  the  greatest  heiress  of 
Missouri,  worth  more  than  her  weight  in  gold,  and 
pretty  and  accomplished  besides.     Her  temporal  as 
well  as  her  eternal  charms,  (by  the  natural  law  of 
gravitation,)   surrounded   her  with    admirers.     The 
mode  of  entertainment  struck  me  as  somewhat  novel, 
as  well  as  liberal  and  expansive.     The  bride  is  the 
only   daughter    of    a    distinguished    lawyer ;    and, 
although  his  house  is  a  very  good-sized  one,    yet, 
wishing  to  accommodate  the  multitude  of  his  friends, 
he  borrowed  the  use  of  the  adjoining  house,  and  gave 
his  guests  the  freedom  of  both.     Still,  as  I  have  said, 
the  party  was  a  jam — a  caution  to  crinoline — and 
the  dancing  was  kept  up  vigorously  until  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning.     The  bride  was  not  beautiful,  but 
bright-eyed  and  intelligent,  and  she  went  through  her 
role  with  as  much  self-possession  as  though  she  had 
been  married  a  dozen  times.     Many  of  the  ladies 
were  pretty,  two  or  three  were  handsome.     Nearly 
all,  old  and  young,  mothers  and  maidens,  marred  the 
effect  of  their  symmetries,  and  hid  the  beauty  of  their 


78  BELLE    BRITTAN 

hair,  by  most  elaborate  and  unartistic  devices  called 
"  head  dresses."  Take  a  look  at  Grecian  statuary, 
ladies,  and  unartificialize  yourselves  in  thisparti«ular. 
There  is  no  ornament  for  the  head  of  woman  like  the 
"  natural  glory "  of  a  clean,  soft,  simply  arranged 
head  of  hair.  If  I  were  a  man,  I  should  always  feel 
as  if  I  would  like  to  put  my  hand  on  such  a  head, 
smooth  it,  pet  it,  kiss  it,  and  ask  a  blessing  on  it. 
But  a  huge  mass  of  braided  conceits,  stuck  full  of 
pins,  ribbons,  and  artificial  flowers,  looking  like  a 
spread  eagle  in  front,  and  a  spread  peacock  behind, 
smelling  of  grease  and  curling-tongs — ugh ! 

But  I  must  drop  the  subject,  or  I  shall  have  my 
fair  sisters  pulling  my  own  hair.  So,  with  a  good 
word  for  mine  host  of  the  "  Planters"  and  their  gentle 
manly  assistant,  (whose  kindness  is  Felt  and  acknow 
ledged,)  I  betake  myself  to  the  Father  of  Rivers, 
(why  not  the  Mother,  the  majestic  receiver,  and  a 
Missis  too  ?)  and  remain, 

Amphibiously  yours, 


ON    A    TOUR.  79 

LETTEK    No.    XIII. 

STEAMBOAT  PHILADELPHIA,      j 
Mississippi  River,  Feb.  11,  1858.  5 

MY  DEAR : 

"  From  rise  of  morn  till  set  of  sun 
I've  seen  the  Mississippi  run  ;'' 

AND  that,  too,  for  four  successive  days ;  and  we 
are  still  thirty-six  hours  from  New-Orleans.  My 
great  regret  in  leaving  St.  Louis  the  hour  I  did  (ten 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning),  was,  that  it  deprived 
me  of  the  pleasure  of  accepting  an  invitation  to  dine 
with  a  gentleman  residing  a  few  miles  out  of  town, 
who  has  one  of  the  finest  flower-gardens  and  con 
servatories  in  the  United  States. 

Mr. is  a  bachelor  of  immense  wealth,  who 

makes  floriculture  his  specialty.  The  love  and  care 
which  most  men  bestow  on  money  and  women  this 
gentleman  devotes  to  flowers  and  fruits.  I  sympa 
thize  with  him  in  these  simple  and  beautiful  tastes ; 
and  yet,  if  I  were  a  man  worth  three  millions  of 
dollars,  I  would  have  one  sweet  flower,  of  a  higher 
species,  to,  adorn  my  garden,  who  should  be  the 
morning,  the  evening,  and  the  crowning  glory  of  all. 
Not  that  I  love  nature  less,  but  man  the  more. 

It  was  a  bright,  balmy,  beautiful  morning  when 


80  BELLE    BRITTAN 

we  left  the  City  of  Steamboats  ;  and  the  bells  were 
ringing  the  people  to  church  as  the  Philadelphia 
quietly  slid  from  the  levee.  I  had  been  on  board  the 
previous  day  (to  inspect  my  coffin,  as  a  friend  sug 
gested),  and  the  gallant  Capt.  Wayne  had  booked  me 
for  the  " bridal  stateroom;"  and  although  the  fresh 
catastrophe  of  the  "  Col.  Grossman"  was  the  topic 
of  general  conversation,  yet  the  stout-looking,  ca 
pacious  boat,  and,  above  all,  the  capable  and  careful 
expression  of  the  captain's  face,  dispelled  all  sensa 
tion  of  fear ;  and  from  that  moment  to  this  I  have 
thought  little  of  the  perils  of  fire,  fog,  or  flood. 

The  Philadelphia  is  a  fine,  fast  boat,  with  accom 
modations  for  five  hundred  passengers  ;  and  we  have 
only  about  fifty  on  board,  and  but  one  who  has 
proved  of  special  interest  to  the  stranger.  Just  as 
we  were  leaving  St.  Louis,  a  young  lady,  petite  and 
pretty,  came  on  board,  looking  a  little  hurried,  flur 
ried,  and  worried.  She  was  escorted  by  two  gen 
tlemen,  relatives,  who  placed  her  under  the  captain's 
care,  requesting  him  to  deliver  her  safely  in  Mem 
phis.  As  there  were  no  ladies  among  the  passengers 
(excepting  one  mother  with  five  children,  and  one 
at  the  breast  most  of  the  time),  the  friends  of  the 
young  lady  naturally  sought  my  acquaintance,  and 
introduced  me  to  their  fair  charge.  She  proved  to 


ON    A    TOUR.  81 

be  the  daughter  of  a  physician  in  Alabama,  and  had 
been  passing  several  months  on  a  visit  to  her  rela 
tives  in  St.  Louis.  Her  passage  had  been  taken  on 
board  another  boat,  in  company  with  a  party  of 
female  friends ;  but  the  boat  left  before  the  time 
advertised,  and  the  poor  child,  longing  for  home, 
rushed  on  board  the  Philadelphia,  thinking  only  of 
her  mother,  and  regardless  of  the  novelty  of  the 
situation  in  which  she  soon  found  herself;  a  young 
lady,  an  only  daughter,  a  petted,  timid  child,  only 
six  months  out  of  school,  among  utter  strangers, 
and  nervously  apprehensive  of  disasters  by  fire  and 
water,  with  no  female  friend  or  attendant,  she  was 
an  object  at  once  of  sympathy  and  compassion.  At 
first  she  afflicted  herself  with  the  pious  thought  that 
she  had  done  a  wicked  thing  to  start  on  Sunday ; 
and  tried  to  atone  for  the  wrong  by  spasmodic  at 
tempts  to  read  the  Bible.  Then  taking  a  miniature 
of  an  only  brother  from  her  pocket,  whom  she  seemed 
to  worship,  would  eagerly  kiss  it,  as  if  their  mutual 
love  would  insure  her  safety.  The  day  was  mild 
and  benignant.  I  invited  her  to  go  out  on  the  deck  ; 
and  seating  her  between  the  poet  Mackay  and  my 
self,  we  administered  to  her  disturbed  imagination 
such  soothing  restoratives  as  poetry  and  philosophy 
could  command. 

"  We  calmed  her  fears,  and  she  was  calm." 


82  BELLE    BRITTAH 

And  then  our  little  bird,  re-assured  in  heart  and 
mind,  that  she  would  be  protected  from  every  dan- 
ger,  began  to  sing  to  us  sweet  home-songs — sad,  sa 
cred  and  sentimental — and  thus  the  golden  hours, 
on  wings  of  melody,  flew  over  us  till  evening.  The 
music  and  the  memories  it  awakened,  hallowed  both 
time  and  place.  Suddenly  the  enchantment  is  bro 
ken,  and  all  our  tranquil  joys  are  turned  to  anxious 
fears.  Our  sweet  singer  is  taken  violently  ill,  and 
her  notes  of  melody  are  changed  to  cries  of  pain. 
Poor  cln'ld  !  how  severely  she  has  suffered,  and  how 
plaintively  she  has  moaned  for  a  mother's  presence 
and  a  mother's  care !  For  forty-eight  sleepless  hours 
I  watched  by  her  side,  a  thousand  times  compen 
sated  by  her  grateful  looks  and  words,  after  each 
paroxysm  of  pain  ;  and  have  had  the  satisfaction  of 
leaving  her  in  charge  of  a  friendly  family  at  Mem 
phis,  momently  expecting  the  arrival  of  her  father, 
almost  entirely  recovered ;  but  not  until  she  gave  us, 
by  way  of  a  bumper  at  parting,  "  False  Nellie  Lor 
raine,"  with  a  wail  that  is  still  ringing  in  my  heart. 
My  poet-companion,  who  is  writing  the  "  Rhyme  of 
the  River,"  has  made  a  beautiful  allusion  to  the  in 
cident  I  have  related,  and  embalmed  our  Alabama 
belle  in  poetry  as  beautiful  as  her  own  music,  all 
of  which  will  appear  in  due  time  in  the  columns  of 
the  Illustrated  London  News. 


ON    A    TOUR.  83 

DOWN  THE  MISSISSIP. 

BY    CHARLES    MACKAY. 
I. 

'Tv/as  a  wintry  morning,  as  the  clock  struck  ten, 

That  we  left  St.  Louis,  two  dejected  men — 

Gazing  on  the  river,  thick  with  yellow  mud, 

And  dreaming  of  disaster,  fire,  and  fog,  and  flood — 

Of  boilers  ever  bursting,  of  snags  that  break  the  wheel, 

And  sawyers  ripping  steamboats,  through  all  their  length  of 

Yet,  on  shipboard  stepping,  we  dismissed  our  fears,    [keel — 

And  beheld  through  sunlight,  in  the  upper  spheres, 

Little  cherubs,  waving  high  their  golden  wings, 

Guarding  us  from  evil  and  its  hidden  springs. 

So  on  Heaven  reliant,  thinking  of  our  weans, 

Thinking  of  our  true-loves,  we  sailed  for  New-Orleans  ; 

Southward,  ever  southward,  in  our  gallant  ship, 

Floating,  steaming,  panting,  down  the  Mississip. 

n. 

Oh,  the  hapless  river  !  in  its  early  run 
Clear  as  molten  crystal,  sparkling  in  the  sun  ; 
Ere  the  fierce  Missouri  rolls  its  troublous  tide 
To  pollute  the  beauty  of  his  injured  bride; 
Like  a  bad  companion  poisoning  a  life, 
With  a  vile  example  and  incessant  strife, 
So  the  Mississippi,  lucent  to  the  brim, 
Wedded  to  Missouri,  takes  her  hue  from  him — 
And  is  pure  no  longer,  but  with  sullen  haste 
Journeys  to  the  ocean — a  gladness  gone  to  waste. 
Thus  our  idle  fancies  shaped  themselves  that  day, 
Mid  the  bluffs  and  headlands,  and  the  islets  grey, 
Southward,  ever  southward,  in  our  creaking  ship, 
Steaming  through  the  ice-drifts  down  the  Mississip. 

in. 

In  our  wake  there  followed,  white  as  flakes  of  snow, 
Seven  adventurous  seagulls,  floating  to  and  fro, 
Diving  for  the  bounty  of  the  bread  we  threw, 
Dipping,  curving,  swerving — fishing  as  they  flew. 


84  BELLE    BRITTAN 

And  in  deep  mid-current,  throned  upon  a  snag, 

Far  away — a  rover — from  his  native  crag, 

Sat  a  stately  eagle,  Jove's  Imperial  bird, 

Heedless  of  our  presence,  though  he  saw  and  heard  ; 

Looking  so  contemptuous,  that  human  nature  sighed 

For  a  loaded  rifle  to  slay  him  for  his  pride ;  — 

But  superb,  defiant ;  slowly,  at  his  ease, 

Spreading  his  wide  pinions  he  vanished  on  the  breeze 

Southward,  flying  southward,  far  beyond  our  ship, 

Floating,  creaking,  panting,  down  the  Mississip. 


In  a  blaze  of  glory  shone  the  sun  that  day, 
In  a  blaze  of  beauty,  fresh  as  flowery  May, 
A  maid  from  Alabama  came  tripping  on  our  deck — 
Bright  as  heaven  above  us, — pure  without  a  speck — 
Singing  songs  till  twilight,  freely  as  the  lark 
That  for  inner  gladness  sings  though  none  may  hark— 
Songs  of  young  affection,  mournful  songs  of  home, 
Songs  of  happy  sadness,  when  the  fancies  roam 
From  th'  oppressive  Real  to  the  fairy  Far, 
Shining  through  the  Future,  silvery  as  a  star  ; 
And  the  Sun  departed  in  his  crimson  robe, 
Leaving  Sleep,  his  viceroy,  to  refresh  the  globe  ; 
Thus  we  traveled  southward  in  our  gallant  ship, 
Floating  drifting,  dreaming,  down  the  Mississip. 


Brightly  rose  the  morning  o'er  the  straggling  town, 

Where  the  broad  Ohio  pours  its  waters  down 

To  the  Mississippi,  rolling  as  before, 

Seeming  none  the  wider  for  increase  of  store  ; 

And  they  said,  "  These  houses,  scattered  on  the  strand, 

Take  their  name  from  Cairo  in  the  Eastern  land, 

And  shall  be  a  city  at  some  future  day, 

Mightier  than  Cairo,  dead  and  passed  away." 

And  we  thought  it  might  be,  as  we  gazed  awhile  ; — 

And  we  thought  it  might  not,  ere  we  passed  a  mile — 


ON    A    TOUR.  85 

And  our  paddles  paddled  through  the  turbid  stream, 
As  we  floated  downwards  in  a  golden  dream  ; 
Southward,  ever  southward,  in  our  panting  ship, 
Idling,  dawdling,  loafing,  down  the  Missis  sip. 


Sometimes  in  Missouri  we  delayed  an  hour, 

Taking  in  a  cargo — butter,  corn,  and  flour  ; 

Sometimes  in  Kentucky  shipped  a  pile  of  logs, 

Sometimes  sheep  or  turkeys,  once  a  drove  of  hogs. 

Ruthlessly  the  niggers  drove  them  down  the  bank, 

Stubbornly  the  porkers  eyed  the  narrow  plank, 

Till  at  length,  rebellious,  snuffing  danger  near, 

They  turned  their  long  snouts  landward,  and  grunted  out  their 

fear, 

And  the  white-teethed  niggers,  grinning  with  delight, 
Rode  them,  and  bestrode  them ;  and  charged  them  in  the 

fight! 

And  then  came  shrill  lamenting,  and  agony  and  wail, 
And  pummelling,  and  hoisting,  and  tugging  at  the  tail, 
Until  the  swine  were  conquered  ;  and  southward  passed  our 

ship, 
Panting,  steaming,  snorting,  down  the  Mississip. 


Thus  flew  by  the  slow  hours,  till  the  afternoon, 

Mid  a  wintry  landscape,  and  a  sky  like  June  ; 

And  the  mighty  river,  brown  with  clay  and  sand, 

Swept,  in  curves  majestic,  through  the  forest  land, 

And  stuck  into  its  bosom,  heaving  fair  and  large, 

Many  a  lowly  cypress  that  grew  upon  the  marge  ; — 

Stumps,  and  trunks,  and  branches,  as  maids  might   stick  a 

pin, 

To  vex  the  daring  fingers  that  seek  to  venture  in. 
Oh  travelers  !  bold  travelers  !  that  roam  in  wild  unrest, 
Beware  the  pins  and  brooches  that  guard  this  river's  breast ; 

5 


86  BELLE    BRITTAN 

For  danger  ever  follows  the  captain  and  the  ship 

Who  scorns  the  snags  and  sawyers  that  gem  the  Mississip. 


Three  days  on  the  river — nights  and  mornings  three — 

Ere  we  stopped  at  Memphis,  the  port  of  Tennessee, 

And  wondered  why  they  gave  it  such  name  of  old  renown — 

A  dreary,  dingy,  muddy,  melancholy  town, 

But  rich  in  bales  of  cotton,  o'er  all  the  landing  spread, 

And  bound  for  merry  England,  to  earn  the  people's  bread — 


Here  our  songster  fled  us,  the  little  gipsy  queen, 

Leaving  us  a  memory  of  gladness  that  had  been, 

And  through  the  dark  night  passing,  dark  without  a  ray, 

Save  the  light  we  carried,  we  held  upon  our  way  : 

Darkness  on  the  waters — darkness  on  the  sky — 

Rain-floods  beating  o'er  us,  wild  winds  howling  high — 

But,  safely  led  and  guided,  by  pilots  who  could  tell 

The  pulse  of  the  river,  its  windings- and  its  swell; 

Who  knew  its  closest  secrets  by  dark  as  well  as  light, 

Each  bluff  and    fringing    forest,   each   swamp    or    looming 

height — 

Its  gambols,  its  caprices,  its  current's  steady  law, 
And  at  the  fourth  day  dawning,  we  skirted  Arkansaw  ; 
Southward,  steering  southward,  in  our  trusty  ship, 
Floating,  steaming,  panting,  down  the  Mississip. 


"Weary  were  the  forests,  dark  on  either  side ; 
Weary  were  the  marshes,  stretching  far  and  wide ; 
Weary  were  the  wood-piles,  strewn  upon  the  bank ; 
Weary  were  the  cane-groves,  growing  wild  and  dank ; 


ON   A 


Weary  were  the  tree-stumps,  charred  and  black  with  fire  } 
Weary  was  the  wilderness,  without  house  or  spire  ; 
Weary  were  the  log-huts,  built  upon  the  sand; 
Weary  were  the  waters,  weary  was  the  land  ; 
Weary  was  the  cabin,  with  its  gilded  wall  j 
Weary  Was  the  deck  we  trod—  weary—  Aweary  all  —  • 
Nothing  seemed  so  pleasant  to  hope  for  or  to  keep, 
Nothing  in  the  wide  world  so  beautiful  as  sleep, 
As  we  journeyed  southward  in  our  lazy  ship, 
.Dawdling,  idling',  loafing,  down  the  Mississip, 


Ever  in  the  evening  as  we  hurried  bys 

Shone  the  blaze  of  forests,  red  against  the  sky— * 

Forests  burned  for  clearings,  to  ^pare  the  woodman's  stroke'? 

Cottonwood  and  cypress,  and  ash  and  giant  oak — 

And  from  sleep  upspringing— when  the  morning  came* 

Seemed  the  lengthening  landscape  evermore  the  same, 

Evermore  the  forest  and  the  rolling  flood, 

And  the  sparse  plantations  and  the  fertile  mud  ;-» 

Thus  we  came  to  Princeton,  threading  countless  isles  j 

Thus  we  came  to  Vicksburg,  thrice  three  hundred  miles  £ 

Thus  we  came  to  Natchez,  when  the  starlight  shone, 

Glad  to  see  it^glad  to  leave  it — -glad  to  hurry  on-^* 

Southward,  ever  southward,  in  our  laden  ship, 

Fuming,  toiling,  heaving,  down  the  Mississip. 


Whence  the  sound  of  music]     Whence  the  merry  laugh  * 

Surely  boon  companions,  who  jest,  and  sing,  and  quafTI 

No  !  the  slave  rejoicing ;— happier  than  the  free, 

W'ith  guitar  and  banjo,  and  burst  of  revelry  ! 

Hark  the  volleyed  laughter  !  hark  the  joyous  shout ! 

Hark  the  nigger  chorus,  ringing  sharply  out. 

Merry  is  the  bondsman  !  gloomy  is  his  lord  ; 

For  merciful  is  Justice  and  kind  is  Fate's  award. 

And  God,  who  ever  tempers  the  winter  to  the  shorn, 

t)ulls  the  edge  of  Sorrow  to  these  His  lambs  forlorn— 


88  BELLE    BtUTTAN 

And  gives  them  cheerful  natures,  and  thoughts  that  never  soar 
Into  that  dark  To-morrow  which  wiser  men  deplore. 
So  sing,  ye  careless  negroes,  in  our  joyous  ship, 
Floating,  steaming,  dancing,  damn  the  Mississip. 


At  the  sixth  day  dawning  all  around  us  lay 
Fog,  and  mist,  and  vapour,  motionless  and  grey  ; 
Dimly  stood  the  cane-swamps,  dimly  rolled  the  stream, 
Bayou-Sara's  housetops  faded  like  a  dream ; 
Nothing  seemed  substantial  in  the  dreary  fog — 
Nothing  but  our  vessel  drifting  like  a  log — • 
Not  a  breath  of  motion  round  our  pathway  blew— 
Idle  was  our  pilot,  idle  were  our  crew — 
Idle  were  our  paddles,  idle,  free  and  slave — 
Everything  was  idle  but  the  restless  wave — 
Bearing  down  the  tribute  of  three  thousand  miles 
To  the  Southern  Ocean  and  its  Indian  isles  ; 
Thus  all  morn  we  lingered  in  our  lazy  ship, 
Dozing,  dreaming,  nodding,  down  the  Mississip. 


But  ere  noon,  uprising,  blew  the  southern  breeze, 

Rolling  off  the  vapor  from  the  cypress-trees, 

Opening  up  the  blue  sky  to  the  south  and  west, 

Driving  off  the  white-clouds  from  the  river's  breast  5 

Breathing  in  our  faces,  balmy,  from  the  land, 

A  roamer  from  the  gardens,  as  all  might  understand  } 

Happy  as  the  swallows  or  cuckoos  on  the  wing, 

We'd  cheated  Father  Winter,  and  sailed  into  the  Spring, 

And  beheld  it  round  us,  with  its  sounds  and  sights, 

Its  odors  and  its  balsams,  its  glories  and  delights — 

The  green  grass,  green  as  England  ;  the  apple-trees  in  bloom  ; 

The  waves  alert  with  music,  and  freighted  with  perfume — 

As  we  journeyed  southward  in  our  gallant  ship, 

Singing  and  rejoicing  down  the  Mississip.    • 


ON    A    TOUR.  89 


On  the  seventh  day  morning  we  entered  New-Orleans, 
The  joyous  "  Crescent  City" — a  Queen  among  the  Queens — 
And  saw  her  pleasant  harbor  alive  with  tapering  spars — 
With  "  union  jacks"  from  England,  and  flaunting  "  stripes 

and  stars ;" 

And  all  her  swarming  Levee,  for  miles  upon  the  shore, 
Buzzing,  humming,  surging,  with  Trade's  incessant  roar — 
With  negroes  hoisting  hogsheads,  and  casks  of  pork  and  oil, 
Or  rolling  bales  of  cotton,  and  singing  at  their  toil ; 
And  downwards — widening  downwards — the  broad  majestic 

river, 

Hasting  not,  nor  lingering,  but  rolling  on  forever. 
And  here  from  travel  resting,  in  soft  ambrosial  hours, 
We   plucked    the  growing    orange,    and  gathered   summer 

flowers, 

And  thanked  our  trusty  captain — our  pilot — and  our  ship — 
For  bearing  us  in  safety  down  the  Mississip^ 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  majestic  mono 
tony  of  this  mighty  river — the  sewer  of  a  hundred 
cities — the  grand  alimentary  canal  of  a  continent. 
The  vast  valley  through  which  it  flows  seems  to  me 
like  a  new  creation- ;  and  its  porous  cottonwood  for 
ests,  that  line  its  banks  for  a  thousand  miles,  look 
like  the  arboreal  experiments  of  nature,  preparatory 
to  more  useful  and  ornamental  production.  The 
cities  we  have  passed — Cairo,  Memphis,  Vicksburg 
and  Natchez — disappoint  me  in  size  and  appearance, 
and  the  scattered  and  ragged-looking  cotton  planta 
tions  wear  a  dreary,  lonely  aspect.  Our  captain,  a 
fine-looking  man,  six  feet  four,  who  is  both  g-al-lant 


90  BELLE    BRITTAN 

and  ga\-lant,  has  done  all  he  could  to  make  the  trip 
a  pleasant  one,  and  his  name-sake  and  clerk  has 
been  most  gentlemanly  and  attentive.  The  fare  has 
teen  good ;  and  Hannah,  the  chambermaid,  with 
her  low,  soft,  sympathetic  voice,  most  assiduous  in 
her  attentions.  The  principal  entertainments  have 
been  afforded  us  by  the  variety  of  cargo  taken  in  at 
the  numerous  landings  ;  and  among  other  "  goods"  a 
drove  of  hogs,  which  it  took  an  army  of  darkies  a 
couple  of  hours  to  persuade  on  board,  afforded  infin 
ite  fun.  It  was  pig  vs.  nig.,  and  such  a  grotesque  strug 
gle  I  have  never  seen.  The  gentlemen  in  the  forward 
cabin  have  also  had  their  own  fun  by  playing  off  a 
practical  joke  upon  "  Jo,"  the  barkeeper.  Jo  is  a 
good-looking  wag,  who  is  rather  fond  of  playing 
good-natured  "  tricks  upon  travelers  ;"  and  the  clerk 
of  the  boat  has  been  watching  an  opportunity  to  pay 
him  in  his  own  coin,  and  this  is  the  way  the  thing 
was  done  : — Among  the  live-stock  on  board  there  is 
a  flock  of  nine  hundred  sheep,  penned  up  as  closely 
as  they  can  stand.  The  clerk,  complaining  that  he 
was  liable  to  be  cheated  in  the  fare  by  a  mis-count, 
proposed  that  the  sheep  should  all  be  marked  and 
numbered.  The  job  was  a  difficult  and  a  disagree, 
able  one.  But  the  ever  ready  and  obliging  Jo,  volun 
teered  for  the  task,  and  with  brush  and  marking- 


ON    A    TOUR. 


91 


pot  in  hand,  descended  into  the  woolly  mass,  and 
proceeded  to  business.  When  he  had  got  fairly  at 
work,  the  captain  tipped  the  wink  to  the  passengers, 
and  all  went  down  to  witness  the  performance. 
There  stood  Jo  in  the  centre  of  the  flock,  with  his 
coat-tails  tucked  up  under  his  arms,  his  face  at  a 
red  heat,  and  looking  bewildered  at  the  task  before 
him,  with  a  faint  glimmering  perception  of  the  joke, 
that  it  would  be  just  as  difficult  to  count  the  sheep 
after  they  were  marked  as  before.  The  party  of 
spectators  broke  into  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  Jo  look 
ing  a  little  "sheepish."  but  taking  the  joke  very 
good-naturedly,  hurried  out  of  the  pen  with  all  possi 
ble  haste. 

"We  have  taken  on  board  two  small  droves  of 
negroes,  one  of  ten,  boys  and  girls,  mostly  the  latter, 
bought  in  Richmond  for  a  plantation  near  Vicksburg. 
They  cost  the  owner,  all  expenses  included,  about 
ten  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  head.  I  asked  the 
best-looking  girl  of  the  lot  her  name.  She  said  it 
was  Cinderella,  (slaves,  like  the  early  Christians,  have 
but  one  name,)  and  that  her  master  had  bought  them 
for  his  own  use.  I  asked  what  that  meant,  and  she 
said  to  work  on  his  plantation,  and  not  to  sell  again. 
-  They  all  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  with  their  emi 
gration  to  Louisiana.  Another  lot  of  twenty  were 


92  BELLE    BRITTAN 

taken  on  board  lower  down  the  river,  and  were  on 
their  way  to  the  New-Orleans  market  to  be  sold,  all 
except  one,  a  mulatto  girl,  who  seemed  to  be  the 
traveling  companion  of  the  owner,  and  would  return 
with  him.  One  fellow  became  obstreperous,  and  had 
to  be  put  in  irons. 

Among  the  objects  of  interest  on  the  river,  none 
excites  more  attention  than  the  lowly  mansion  of 
Gen.  Taylor,  at  Baton  Rouge.  It  is  a  mere  cottage, 
and  a  very  humble  one  at  that ;  but  as  the  home  of 
a  President  of  the  United  States,  it  gives  a  historical 
character  to  the  place,  and  the  traveler  watches  for 
it  with  eager  curiosity.  From  Baton  Rouge  to  New- 
Orleans,  a  distance  of  over  a  hundred  and  twenty 
miles,  the  sugar  plantations  line  both  sides  of  the 
river,  and  the  green  fields,  green  trees,  with  here  and 
there  clumps  of  orange  groves,  rich  in  fruits  and 
blossoms,  make  one  feel  that  the  people  of  Louisiana, 
like  the  cuckoo,  need  have 

"  No  sorrow  in  their  song, 
No  winter  in  their  year." 

We  are  now  approaching  the  Crescent  City  and 
civilization ;  so  I'll  put  on  a  clean  collar,  a  clean 
sh — ,  and  get  myself  up  generally  for  a  presentable 
appearance  at  the  St.  Charles.  Like  the  Irishman, 


ON    A    TOUR.  93 

who  wrote  to  his  wife,  and  took  it  to  her  himself,  in 
order  to  save  postage,  I  shall  hand  you  this  without 
the  intervention  of  any  mail.  Yours,  and  glad  to  be 
with  you. 


LETTER     No.    XIV. 


ST.  CHARLES  HOTEL,  NEW-ORLEANS, 
February  16,   1858. 


MY  DEAR 


THREE  days  of  summer  weather  in  the  Crescent 
City,  in  the  St.  Charles  Hotel,  in  a  crowd  of  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  strangers,,  representing  every  State, 
if  not  every  city  in  the  Union,  and  your  "fair  corres 
pondent"  finds  herself  "lost  in  wonder,  love,  and 
praise  ! "  How  shall  I  convince  my  Northern  friends 
that  while  they  are  shivering  over  anthracite  fires,  we 
are  walking  the  shady  side  of  the  streets  in  the  thin 
nest  shawls,  or  sitting  at  open  windows  inhaling  the 
sweet  and  balmy  breezes  of  th«  Grulf,  redolent  of 
roses  and  orange  flowers  !  Verily — 

"  We  have  cheated  Father  Winter 
And  sailed  into  the  Spring." 

5* 


94  BELLE    BRITTAN 

Since  Saturday  I  have  not  seen  a  cloud  in  the  hori 
zon,  nor  a  fire  in  the  grate  ;  and  last  evening  we  all 
went  to  Thalberg's  concert  bare-headed,  (some  of  us 
bare-necked,)  in  lace  mantles  or  light  opera  cloaks. 

And  now  that  I  have  touched  upon  the  concert,  let 
me  say  it  was  a  brilliant  success.  The  great  mas 
ters,  Vieuxteinps  and  Thalberg,  never  acquitted  them 
selves  in  a  more  masterly  manner,  although  the  lat 
ter  was  suffering  under  the  pressure  of  sad  news  just 
received  from  home — the  death  of  his  father-in-law, 
Lablache.  When  encored,  instead  of  playing  one  of 
his  lively  ittle  pieces,  he  gave  us  "  The  Last  Rose  of 
Summer,"  in  notes  of  more  touching  pathos  than  I 
have  ever  heard  from  the  chords  of  the  piano.  The 
sweet,  lamenting  tones  moistened  more  than  one  pair 
of  bright  eyes  near  me  ;  and  then  I  thought  of  one 
sweet  and  lovely  singer,  now  sleeping  with  the  van 
ished  flowers,  who  used  to  sing  this  exquisite  melody 
in  such  a  strain  of  delicious  sadness,  as  to  melt  all 
hearts  into  pity  for  the  poor  "  lone  one,"  left  to  "  pine 
on  the  stem."  And  this  is  the  luxury  of  music :  it 
touches  every  key  6*f  memory,  and  stirs  all  the  hid 
den  springs  of  sorrow  and  of  joy.  I  love  it  for  what 
it  makes  me  forget,  and  for  what  it  makes  me  remem 
ber.  But  these  are  reflections.  Let  me  confine  my 
self  to  facts.  What  a  fine  hall  for  music  is  the  "  Odd 


ON    A    TOUR.  95 

Fellows ;"  and  what  an  elegant  and  discriminating 
crowd  of  listeners  !  There  was  no  talking  during  the 
performances  ;  no  applauding  out  of  place,  and  no 
inconsiderate  and  vociferous  encoring.  It  was  also  a 
well-dressed  audience.  The  gentlemen  put  on  gloves, 
and  the  ladies  showed  their  respect  for  art  by  getting 
themselves  up  in  toilettes  suitable  to  the  occasion. 
At  the  opera,  also,  the  other  evening,  I  noticed  that 
the  ladies  were  carefully,  richly,  and  generally  taste 
fully  dressed  ;  and  as  the  boxes  are  so  arranged  as  to 
display  almost  the  entire  figure,  the  scene  was  very 
beautiful.  From  the  gallery  above,  it  was  like  look 
ing  down  upon  a  bed  of  flowers.  Speaking  of  the 
opera,  M'me  Colson,  as  Marie,  in  "  La  Fille  du  Regi 
ment,"  sang  and  acted  her  role  admirably,  and  so  did 
the  personator  of  the  Sergeant.  The  tenor  was  only 
so-so.  Bat  I  am  unintentionally  running  into  the 
province  of  your  musical  critic  ["  Gremotice"],  whose 
"opinions"  of  art  and  artists  are  regarded  as  standard 
authority  throughout  the  United  States. 

To  return  to  the  St.  Charles.  This  spacious  hotel 
is  a  great  and  a  "  peculiar  institution."  Just  now  it  is 
excessively  crowded,  and  its  dining  saloons  and  par 
lors  look  like  Saratoga  or  Newport  in  the  height  of 
the  season.  The  proprietors  have  their  hand's  full, 
and  find  it  difficult  to  bestow  the  constantly  inflow- 


96  BELLE    BRITTAN 

ing  tide  of  guests.  The  drawing-room,  after  dinner, 
presents  a  gay  and  festive  scene.  It  is  a  congress  of 
beautiful  women  ;  and  I  wish  I  could  add,  of  fine- 
looking  men  also.  But  the  truth  will  fully  justify 
me  in  claiming  for  the  softer  sex  of  the  South  a  de 
cided  superiority  in  looks,  manners,  cultivation,  &c., 
&c.  In  a  word,  I  should  say  this  is  a  very  paradise 
for  accomplished  cosmopolitan"  gentlemen  in  search 
of  wives,  either  with  or  without  fortune.  I  confess 
that  I  "  cotton"  to  these  fair,  flush,  impulsive,  warm 
hearted  plantation  women.  They  have  an  easy, 
complacent,  luxurious,  dolce  far  niente  look,  parti 
cularly  attractive  to  one  of  refined  epicurean  procli 
vities.  And  with  what  a  wealth  of  hair  these  mag 
nificent  women  are  crowned!  It  is  as  full  and 
luxuriant  as  the  foliage  of  their  own  forests.  But, 
oh,  how  unartistically  they  dress  it !  What  a  forbid 
ding  deformity  is  a  head  of  hair  of  the  size  of  a 
bushel  basket,  stuck  full  of  pins,  loaded  down  with 
braids  (foreign  hairs),  festooned  with  flowers,  and 
flaunting  with  rainbow-colored  ribbons !  I  am  de 
lighted  to  know  that  the  precepts  and  example  of 
your  "  fair  correspondent"  have  not  been  lost  upon 
all  the  fair  heads  of  your  fair  readers,  and  that 
several  of  the  leading  and  loveliest  belles  of  the  St. 
Charles  have,  within  a  day  or  two,  subdued  their 


ON    A    TOUR.  97 

tresses  into  natural  bounds  and  Grecian  simplicity. 
At  the  risk  of  being  "  persecuted  in  every  city"  by 
barbers,  coifFeures,  modistes,  and  importers  of  human 
hair  from  Switzerland,  (where  maidens  are  shorn 
like  sheep  to  supply  the  Parisian  and  American  mar 
ket,)  I  shall  continue  to  preach  and  practice 
simplicity  of  head  dress  until  a  new  order  of  hair- 
istocracy  is  established  throughout  the  world. 

"  Whom  have  we  at  the  St.  Charles  ?"  is  a  question 
that  comes  to  me  to-day  in  more  than  one  letter 
from  home.  Of  belles  there  are  several ;  but  I  dare 
not  name  them.  Kentucky,  I  think,  in  this  parti 
cular,  is  "  the  banner  State."  They  are  bright,  ex 
uberant,  coquettish  creatures,  ever  ready  to  confide 
the  sweet  secrets  of  their  heart  to  a  sympathetic  ear, 
as  the  flowers  are  to  yield  their  fragrance  to  the 
whisperings  of  the  breeze.  They  are  frank,  generous, 
and  joyous,  and  if  you  give  them  a  kiss  they  will 
give  it  right  back  again  with  interest.  [Of  course  I 
speak  as  a  woman.] 

Among  the  celebrities  are  Miss  Charlotte  Cush- 
man  and  the  poet  Mackay.  The  former,  the 
greatest  actress  on  the  stage,  and  one  of  the  noblest 
women  in  the  world  ;  and  the  latter,  the  best  of 
living  poets — the  Poet  Laureate  of  the  People  I 
have  also  met  the  magnificent  "  Rosa,"  a  sweet 


98 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


Western  poetess,  and  a  woman  of  rare  and  sumptu 
ous  beauty,  with  a  bust  that  a  sculptor  might  wor 
ship  but  could  not  improve,  and  with  eyes  that  may 
have  been  deepened,  but  not  dimmed,  by  tears, 

"  As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear." 

And  here  I  should  close ;  but  I  cannot  forbear 
complying  with  a  friend's  request  to  "  set  you  right " 
on  the  Red  Petticoat  question,  which  is  beginning 
to  be  discussed  here  ;  although  I  believe  that  mine 
is  the  "  only  copy  "  in  town.  It  is  not  true  that  the 
red  petticoat  was  introduced  into  "  good  society  'r  by 
the  Q,ueen  of  England. 

During  the  Russian  war  it  was  announced  in  the 
English  papers,  by  the  correspondents  of  the  Times, 
the  Illustrated  News,  and  others,  that  the  favorite 
costume  of  the  Russian  peasants  was  a  red  petti 
coat  ;  and  that  the  Russian  national  melody  was 
called  the  "  Red  Petticoat."  In  1856,  the  red  petti 
coat  suddenly  made  its  appearance  in  England.  It 
has  long  been  worn  in  France,  especially  among 
the  fish  girls  of  Boulogne-sur-Mer,  a  favorite  re 
sort  of  the  English  in  summer,  and  only  twenty- 
four  miles  from  the  English  coast.  It  is  also 
worn  by  the  fish  women  of  New-Haven,  near  Edin 
burgh;  and  was  introduced  on  the  stage  by  Miss 


ON    A    TOUR.  99 

P.  Horton,  in  the  character  of  a  fishwoman.  I 
should  think  that  in  Kentucky,  where  every  other 
lady  wears  a  crimson  dress,  the  red  petticoat  would 
rage  like  wildfire.  When  coquettishly  worn,  it  is 
decidedly  picturesque  and  inflammatory. 

But  hear  what  Mack  ay  says  of  the  scarlet  gar 
ment — who  has  done  it  up  in  verse,  set  it  to  music ; 
and,  in  a  few  days,  I  suppose  it  will  be  as  popular 
as  a  "  campaign  song  :" 

THE  RED  PETTICOAT. 


Oh,  the  red,  the  flaunting  petticoat, 

That  courts  the  eye  of  day, 
That  loves  to  flare  and  be  admired, 

And  blinks  from  far  away  ; 
It  may  delight  the  roving  sight, 

And  charm  the  fancy  free  ; 
But  if  its  wearer's  half  as  bold, 

I'll  pass,  and  let  her  be — 
With  her  red,  her  flaunting  petticoat, 

She's  not  the  girl  for  me  ! 

n. 
Cut  the  white,  the  modest  petticoat, 

As  pure  as  drifted  snow, 
That  shuns  the  gaze  in  crowded  ways, 

Where  follies  come  and  go — 
It  stirs  the  primrose  on  its  path, 

Or  daisy  on  the  lea  ; 
And  if  the  wearer's  like  the  garb, 

How  beautiful  is  she  ! 
With  her  white,  her  modest  petticoat, 

Oh,  she's  the  girl  for  me ! 


100  BELLE    BRITTAN 

III. 
But  red  or  white,  it  matters  not, 

If  she  be  good  and  fair, 
Herself  shall  sanctify  the  garb 

It  pleases  her  to  wear. 
The  red  shall  show  her  warmth  of  heart, 

And  spirit  frank  and  free — 
The  blue  her  truth — the  pink  her  love, 

The  white  her  purity. 
If  these  her  colors — these  her  charms- — 

Oh,  she's  the  girl  for  me ! 


LETTER    No.    XV. 

ST.  CHARLES  HOTEL, 
NEW-ORLEANS,  February  18,  1858. 

MY  DEAR : 

A  BUDGET  of  notes  from  the  Picayune  office,  with 
several  notelets  mysteriously  left  in  my  room  this 
morning,  require  a  little  notice ;  and,  as  they  say  in 
Congress,  "  I  rise  to  make  an  explanation."  I  will 
not  deny  that  some  of  these  epistles  are  "  love  letters," 
full  of  sentiment  and  bad  spelling ;  but  I  am  sorry  to 
find  that,  as  a  general  rule,  the  more  extravagant 
the  admiration,  the  more  limping  the  orthography. 
As  I  cannot  personally  reply  to  all  these  communica 
tions,  invitations,  and  propositions,  let  me  use  your 
columns  for  the  purpose,  in  the  first  place,  of  giving 
a  general  answer  to  that  Eve-like  curiosity  which  asks 


ON    A    TOUR.  101 

to  lift  the  veil  from  the  face  of  your  fair  "  incognita." 
"Who  is  Belle  Brittan  ?"  "  Is  she  a  woman  or  a 
myth  ?"  I  can  only  answer  in  the  words  of  the 
Irishman's  echo,  who  came  to  the  place  of  his  youth 
and  cried,  "  The  friends  of  my  youth,  where  are 
they  ?"  And  echo  replied,  "  Really,  I  don't  know  !" 
Belle  Brittan  does  not  know  herself  (who  does  ?)  who 
she  is,  what  she  is,  whence  she  came,  or  whither 
she's  going.  With  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  let  her  pass 
for  what  she  seems.  (Few  are  the  Hamlets  who  can 
truly  say,  "  I  know  not  seems")  To  the  weak-head 
ed  anonymous  gentlemen  who  solicit  locks  of  hair, 
daguerreotype  portraits,  old  gaiters,  &c.,  &c.,  let  me 
say,  once  for  all,  that  I  have  none  to  spare  ;  and  to 
the  strong-minded  sisterhood,  who  claim  to  have 
found  in  your  "  fair  correspondent"  an  exponent  of 
their  own  yearning  hearts,  ever  longing  to  wreak 
themselves  in  print,  let  me  say,  that  I  am  not  a 
Bloomer,  either  outwardly  or  inwardly  (I  specially 
detest  a  woman  who  pants  for  notoriety),  and  think 
a  woman  cannot  be  too  womanly,  any  more  than  a 
man  can  be  too  manly. 

I  am  aware  that  the  critics  of  the  press,  and  the 
censors  of  manners,  have  sometimes  accused  me  of 
indulging  in  expressions  too  masculine  for  my  sex — 
that  my  letters  are  sometimes  a  little  too  Fanny 


102 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


Ferny,  or  Lady  Gay  Spankerish.  But  the  truth  is, 
I  have  been  a  good  deal  in  gentlemen's  society,  and 
now  and  then  may  have  caught  and  used  a  word  that 
is  more  forcible  than  feminine.  Something  must  be 
pardoned  to  one's  habit  of  life  ;  if  not  to  peculiari 
ties  of  temperament.  Henceforth  I  will  be  just  as 
lady-like  in  my  style  as  circumstances  will  permit. 
And  yet,  there  is  no  use  disguising  the  fact  that 
women  do  sometimes  feel  an  infinite  relief  in  saying 
and  doing  strong  things.  An  intense  nature  cannot 
always  stop  to  "  mince  matters."  And  now,  having, 
as  I  trust,  fully  and  forever  unsatisfied  the  curiosity 
of  the  public,  at  the  risk  of  being  censured  for  ego 
tism,  (there  is  always  somebody  to  censure  us  for 
something,)  let  me  return  thanks  to  a  fair  correspon 
dent  in  Iberia  ("had  I,  too,  in  Iberia  dwelt!"), 
whose  sweet  sisterly  letter,  so  delicate,  tender,  and 
womanly  in  its  sympathies — so  beautiful  and  poetical 
in  its  descriptions  of  the  "  Attakappas  country" — so 
strongly  and  so  hospitably  persuasive  in  its  invitations 
to  "visit  the  country,  to  which  the  unfortunate 
lover  of  Longfellow's  "Evangeline"  fled — the  country 
in  which  the  descendants  of  Basil,  the  blacksmith,  still 
live,"  has  almost  thrown  me  off  my  track  of  travel, 
and  tempted  me  into  the  beauteous  wilderness,  where 


ON    A    TOUR.  103 

*  Beautiful  is  the  land  with  its  prairies  and  forests  of  fruit  trees, 
Under  the  feet  a  garden  of  flowers,  and  the  bluest  of  heaven 
Bending  above,  and  resting  its  dome  on  the  walls  of  the  forest." 

To  the  land  where — 

"  The  mocking  bird,  wildest  of  singers, 

Shakes  from  his  little  throat  such  floods  of  delicious  music." 

Alas  !  the  inexorable  necessity  that  ever  compels 
us  to  hurry  on  and  away  from  these  almost  irresist 
ible  allurements,  like  the  Alpine  youth  who  pressed 
on  and  up  through  snow  and  ice,  not  even  staying 
to  rest  his  head  upon  the  breast  of  the  sweet- voiced 
maiden.  My  dear  unknown  "  Creole,"  I  cannot 
come  to  you,  in  your  flowery  forest  home,  where  I 
imagine  you  to  dwell  like  Coleridge's 

"  Youthful  hermitess, 
Beauteous  in  a  wilderness  ;" 

but  will  console  myself  with  the  hope  that  we  may 
meet  somewhere  further  on.  To  the  request  made 
in  that  important  feminine  appendage,  the  Post 
script  (always  containing  the  uppermost  thought, 
although  last  expressed),  I  say — yes,  with  all  my 
heart. 

And  this,  by  the  way,  reminds  me  that  I  should 
add  a  P.  S.  to  my  little  historical  sketch  of  the  intro 
duction  of  the  red  petticoat.  In  the  countries  where 


104  BELLE    BRITTAN 

it  is  worn,  during  "  Leap  Year,"  the  maiden  in  the 
crimson  skirt  may  pop  the  question  to  her  favorite 
swain,  and  if  he  is  ungallant  enough  to  refuse  her 
his  hand,  the  custom  of  the  country  compels  him  to 
console  her  with  the  present  of  a  new  silk  dress. 
"When  this  "  law  of  society"  shall  be  adopted  here, 
won't  we  girls  risk  the  question,  once  in  four  years, 
for  the  sake  of  the  garment,  if  not  for  the  bride 
groom  ! 

I  was  just  "  coming  to  a  close,"  in  a  desperate 
hurry,  to  have  a  peep  at  the  beaux  in  the  parlor, 
when  up  comes  another  note,  signed  "  Edwin," 
llfwirg  me  up  for  "overpraising  the  Kentucky 
belles !"  I  have  only  to  say,  the  thing  can't  be 
done.  I  make  no  comparisons,  but  still  persist  in 
saying,  that  in  the  great  and  glorious  staples  of 
whisky  and  women,  old  Kentucky  can't  be  beat. 
If  I  were  a  bachelor  in  search  of  a  wife — well,  I 
don't  say  what  I  would  do. 


ON    A   TOUR.  105 

LETTER    No.   XVI. 

MOBILE,  j 

February  26,  1858.  J 
MY  DEAR : 

DID  any  of  your  readers  (or  mine)  ever  turn  their 
backs  upon  one  they  loved  ?  Yes,  for  it  is  one  of 
the  commonest,  and  one  of  the  hardest  trials  of  life. 
Separation  is  a  terrible  thing;  but  it  is  the  dark 
gulf  we  all  must  cross  ;  and  it's  no  use  to  "  linger, 
shivering  on  the  brink."  The  child  must  leave  its 
mother ;  the  bride  her  childhood's  home  ;  the  lover 
"  the  maid  whom  his  bosom  holds  dear ;"  and, 
finally,  we  all  must  leave  all,  and  go  alone  with  our 
memories  into  the  land  of — the  great  Perhaps  ! 

I  left  New-Orleans,  the  city  of  the  Sun  (and  of 
the  Soul),  heavily  freighted  with  regrets ;  and  my 
heart  rode  backwards  all  the  way  to  Mobile.  Nine 
delightful  days  (and  glorious  nights),  with  not  a 

cloud  by  day  to  obscure  the  golden  light  of  the  sun ; 

» 

not  a  speck  by  night  to  dim  the  silver  radiance  of 
the  crescent  moon ;  in  an  atmosphere  as  soft  as  a 
New-England  June,  and  redolent  of  roses  and  orange 
blossoms ;  where,  as  Byron  says, 

"  The  sky  is  so  clear  and  purely  beautiful 
That  God  alone  is  to  be  seen  in  heaven ;" 

and  my  heart  had  been  won  by  the  very  elements 


106  BELLE    BRITTASf 

of  the  place,  to  say x  nothing  of  the  kindness  and 
hospitality  of  the  people.  From  the  moment  the 
gracious,  gentlemanly,  and  gallant  proprietors  of 
the  St.  Charles  received  me  with  a  tropical  "  smile," 
that  penetrated  to  my  heart  (thence  ascending  and 
radiating  in  gentle  waves  of  joy  about  the  brain), 
until  they  placed  in  my  hands  a  parting  benediction 
(two  bottles  of  "  the  spirit  of  '76  "),  every  moment 
of  my  sojourn  calls  for  an  emotion  of  special  grati 
tude. 

But  as  I  have  not  time  for  a  "bill  of  particulars," 
like  Franklin,  who  asked  a  blessing  on  the  entire 
barrel  of  pork,  I  must  return  thanks  in  a  word  to 
all — "debtor  to  sundries."  To  the  "  Mistick  Krewe," 
for  anonymous  invitations, to  their  unique,  mysteri 
ous,  mythological,  and  most  entertaining  "  entertain 
ment  ;"  to  the  young  and  princely  bachelor  million 
aire,  for  a  look  at  his  fine  paintings,  fast  horses,  con 
vivial  friends  ("jolly  companions,  every  one"),  &c., 
&c. ;  to  several  gallant,  but  ungodly  men  of  the  North, 
who  (mistaking  my  character)  invited  me  to  see  a 
cock-fight  on  Sunday,  and  a  market  for  the  sale  of 
black  boys  and  girls  of  all  sizes,  who  all  begged  me 
to  buy  them,  recommending  themselves  as  waiters, 
nurses,  hair-dressers,  &c.,  &c.,  in  the  most  extrava 
gant  terms ;  to  the  great  masters,  Thalberg  and 


ON    A    TOUR.  107 

Vieuxtemps,  whose  visit  happened  so  apropos ;  to 
Charlotte  Cushman,  the  wonderful  artiste  and  glori 
ous  woman,  whose  personal  acquaintance  is  an  event 
in  any  one's  lifetime  ;  and,  last  and  most  of  all,  to  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  "  St.  Charles" — young 
and  old,  married  and  single.  In  view  of  all  the  kind 
things  done,  said,  proposed,  and  promised,  I  am 
crushed  beneath  a  mountain  of  obligations ;  and,  as 
Hamlet  says,  "beggared  even  in  thanks." 

But  in  this  strain  of  retrospective  dalliance  I  may 
not  publicly  indulge.  It  is  too  much  like  squeezing 
hands  and  kissing  "  before  folks."  By  the  way, 
what  universal  kissers  these  Southern  women  are.  I 
mean  among  themselves,  of  course.  In  the  drawing- 
room  of  the  St.  Charles  there  is  one  continual  shower 
of  these  soft,  insipid,  inter-feminine  kisses.  At  first 
I  was  tempted  to  exclaim,  behold,  how  these  women 
love  each  other  !  but  soon  learned  that  it  was  one 
of  the  customs  of  the  country,  meaning  little,  if  any 
thing  more  than  a  bow,  a  hand-shake,  or  a  "  how  are 
you  ?"  For  my  part,  I  will  frankly  confess,  that  I 
much  prefer  to  kiss  a  goblet  of  Catawba,  a  clean 
baby,  or  one  of  "  the  opposite  sex"  to  mingling 
lips  and  *  breaths  with  the  handsomest  of  my  own. 
And  yet,  I  could  name  an  exception  or  two  of  women 
with  cherry  lips,  polished  teeth,  and  rose-geranium 


108  BELLE    BRITTAN 

odors,  whose  sweet  mouths  an  angel  of  heaven  might 
sigh  to  kiss,  especially  if  the  said  angel,  like  one  or 
two  I  know,  appeared  in  boots  and  pantaloons. 

Just  before  leaving  Paradise,  I  received  a  long 
letter,  without  a  signature,  written  in  a  delicate, 
graceful,  lady's  hand,  discussing  the  society  of  St. 
Charles  in  a  free,  feminine,  philosophical  manner,  too 
good  to  be  lost.  Who  could  have  written  it  ?  I  am 
utterly  in  the  dark  as  to  the  writer's  identity  ;  and 
yet,  suspicion  hovers  between  a  matron  and  a  maid 
who  can  boast  that  a  pure  tide  of  historical  blood 
flows  richly  in  their  veins.  ("  Blood  will  tell.") 
Let  me  give  an  extract  of  true  womanly  feeling 
and  criticism  : — 


I 


ST.    CHARLES   HOTEL, 
Ftbruary  20,  1858. 

DEAR,  charming,  fluent,  piquant  Belle  Brittan,  you  sprightly  com 
pound  of  man  and  woman.  *  *  In  my  distant  country  home, 
amid  the  roses  and  magnolia  vales  of  the  fairest  portion  of  this  our 
sunny  South,  the  echoes  of  your  fame  had  reached  me  and  awakened 
a  thousand  pleasant  emotions  within  my  own  breast.  Your  vivid 
description  of  people  and  things,  wit  and  sentiment  exquisitely 
blended,  woman's  piquancy  with  man's  deeper  thought,  all  found  a 
response  in  my  heart,  and  excited  a  lively  curiosity  to  see  the  fair  (?) 
writer,  for  *  *  *  And  now  how  I  should  enjoy  a  nice, 
long,  loving  talk,  within  view  of  the  crowd,  yet  removed  from  its 
din — a  quiet  conversation  far  above  the  staple  of  every  day  common 
alities  and  parlor  frivolities.  Now  don't  deem  me  a  sentimentalist, 
in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  word,  nor  a  bold,  fast  woman.  I  am 
not  making  love  to  you.  I  would  not  dare  address  you  thus  face  to 
face  ;  but,  through  the  medium  of  pen  and  paper,  can  I  not  tell  you 


ON  A   TOUR.  109 

some  of  the  thoughts  that  are  crowding  my  brain  and  swelling  my 
heart,  and  dive  a  little  deeper  into  things  than  the  minions  of  fashion, 
who  hit  them  upon  the  surface  and  play  with  the  bubbles  ? 

And  apropos  of  fashion,  what  do  you  think  of  it  generally  1  and 
more  especially  the  female  devotees — those  gay  butterflies,  fluttering 
through  the  gaudy  parlors  of  this  temple  of  fashion  and  folly  !  Think 
you  that  a  really  genuine  heart  beats  beneath  the  folds  of  each  gor 
geous  silk  or  velvet ;  or  that  many  ideas  have  birth  within  those 
heavily  laden  (externally)  heads  1  Is  there  a  soul  there  1  I  doubt 
it.  Not  but  that  each  fair  one  has  her  peculiar  affections  to  a  de 
gree,  and  some  little  warmth  about  the  region  anatomically  denomi 
nated  the  heart.  For  example  :  a  fashionable  wife  has  a  husband  ; 
likes  him  well  enough  ;  he  is  a  good  sort  of  man  ;  foots  the  bills,  and 
asks  no  questions.  Or,  a  gay  'widow,  with  several  et  ceteras,  really 
is  very  fond  of  them,  but  they  are  much  better  at  home ;  morals 
would  be  contaminated  at  a  hotel,  (entre  nous,  they  would  scare  off 
the  beaus).  Then,  a  mincing,  simpering,  flirting  young  lady  has  a 
beau,  her  own  especial  favorite,  him  whom  she  allows  to  squeeze 
her  hand  the  longest — who  accompanies  her  oftenest  to  the  theatre, 
concert,  or  what  not.  She  has  half  said  yes,  but  won't  decide,  though 
he  really  has  "  such  sweet  eyes  ;"  and  she  believes  she  will  marry 
him,  if  she  can't  do  be.tter  !  What  a  heterogeneous  mass  is  here  as 
sembled  ;  what  a  conglomeration  of  follies  ;  what  a  variety  of  ani 
mals  in  the  human  menagerie  ! 

And  not  only  our  sex,  but  the  men.  *         *  ,v  * 

Vain,  flattering,  light,  deceptive,  empty  (pockets  as  well  as  heads), 
coxcombish  fellows,  that  are  to  be  seen  here  !  Look  at  that  veni, 
vidi,  v>ci  specimen,  as  he  pauses  at  the  door,  levels  his  glass  at  a 
dress  (not  the  wearer  in  it),  pronounces  it  stylish,  pretty  ;  addresses 
some  trifling  words  to  a  feminine;  to  an  indifferent  question  gives 
a  worse  answer  ;  then  saunters  on  to  utter  the  same  vapid  nonsense 
to  some  other  belle,  and  rehearse  the  same  parody  upon  the  noblest 
enjoyment  of  life — social  and  intellectual  intercourse  between  the 
sexes.  "  Oh  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness  !"  sigh  I,  rather 
than  a  palace  in  a  world  peopled  by  such  bipeds.  Give  me  but  a 
^mall  circle  of  earnest  natures,  whose  warmth  of  manner  is  not  the 
exuberance  of  vanity,  or  the  effervescence  of  wine,  but  the  natural 
outpouring  of  a  candid  nature  ;  whose  professions  are  sincere  ;  and 

6 


110  BELLE    BRITTAN 

whose  souls,  purified   from  the  dross   of  worldlinesg,  are  alive   to 
nobler  aims  than  the  pursuit  of  fashionable  folly. 

With  this  admirably  written  and  most  suggestive 
criticism,  I  will  fold  my  sheet,  and  save  Mobile  as 
a  postscript  to  this.  To  confess  the  honest  truth,  I 
am  not  yet  entirely  here;  although  body,  trunk, 
&c.,  are  snugly  bestowed  in  the  "  Battle  House."  I 
cannot  yet  decide  whether  I  have  acted  more  like  a 
fool  or  a  heroine,  in  resisting  all  those  plantation  in 
vitations.  The  beautiful  and  classic  pleadings  of  the 
fair  Iberian  Creole,  are  almost  as  irresistible  as  the 
song  of  the  Lurelei  in  the  legend  of  the  Rhine. 
Recedingly  yours. 

P.  S. —  Love  to  New- Orleans  in  general;    and   to 
,  to ,  and  to in  particular. 


LETTER    No.     XVII. 

STEAMER  ST.  CHARLES,  ALABAMA  RIVER,  j 
February  28,  1858.  \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

WHEN  a  celebrated  French  philosopher  asked  a  cele 
brated  French  philosophress  if,  in  her  opinion,  the 
woman  ever  lived  whose  virtue  was  impregnable,  she 
naively  and  wisely  answered,  "  c'est  selon"  This  is 


ON    A    TOUR.  Ill 

my  reply  to  the  question :  Is  the  trip  from  New- 
Orleans  to  Mobile  a  pleasant  one  ?  Five  years  ago, 
when  I  crossed  the  placid  lake  in  company  with  a 
handsome  and  gallant  New- York  gentleman,  with  no 
regrets  behind  me,  and  all  my  hopes  before  me — (I 
was  younger  then) — Pontchartrain  was  sleeping 
serenely  in  the  lovely,  lustrous  moonlight,  and  the 
voyage  was  fairy-like  and  beautiful.  But  now,  how 
changed  !  The  winds  and  waves  were  tumultuous, 
and  there  was  neither  moon  nor  star-light  to  relieve 
the  darkness  resting  upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  It 
was  a  wild,  rough  night,  and  the  "  Cuba"  was  rudely 
buffeted  ;  but,  thanks  to  my  stars,  (and  stomach,)  I 
was  able  to  preserve  my  equilibrium,  although  the 
demon  of  sea-sickness  was  madly  rioting  among  the 
crowd  of  passengers. 

On  leaving  the  wharf,  my  attention  was  attracted 
by  an  act  of  sentimental  gallantry  worthy  of  notice. 
A  tall  young  gentleman,  whose  face  and  name  are 
familiar  to  the  guests  of  the  St.  Charles,  stood,  like 
a  statue,  at  the  end  of  the  pier,  holding  aloft  a  snowy 
handkerchief,  which  "  fluttered  in  the  breeze,"  until 
both  the  flag  and  the  flag-staff  were  lost  in  the  dis 
tance.  This  compliment  might  have  been  intended 
for  one  "  whom  modesty  forbids  me  to  mention  ;"  but 
truth  compels  me  to  add,  that  a  fair  Mobile  belle  sat 


112  BELLE    BRITTAN 

leaning  over  the  rail  of  the  vessel,  looking  very  sadly 
and  very  earnestly  at  the  fading  figure  so  pertina 
ciously  "  seeing  her  off."  The  pale  beauty  looked  still 
paler  half  an  hour  afterwards,  as  she  staggered  to  her 
stateroom  and  called  for  the  chambermaid — and  a 
basin  !  Love  is  no  antidote  for  sea-sickness  ;  but  it  is 
a  question  if  sea-sickness  is  not  an  antidote  for  love — 
a  temporary  one,  at  least. 

At  half-past  ten  o'clock  A.  M.,  the  next  day,  we 
landed  at  Mobile — a  pleasant  cotton  city  of  some  thirty 
thousand  inhabitants — where  the  people  live  in  cotton 
houses  and  ride  in  cotton  carriages.  They  buy  cotton, 
sell  cotton,  think  cotton,  eat  cotton,  drink  cotton,  and 
dream  cotton.  They  marry  cotton  wives,  and  unto 
them  are  born  cotton  children.  In  enumerating  the 
charms  of  a  fair  widow,  they  begin  by  saying  she 
makes  so  many  bales  of  cotton.  It  is  the  great  staple 
—the  sum  and  substance  of  Alabama.  It  has  made 
Mobile,  and  all  its  citizens.  Next  to  the  cotton  in 
terest,  the  accomplished  Madame  Levert  is  the  "  pecu 
liar  institution,"  and  particular  attraction  of  the  place 
— a  rare  and  radiant  woman,  who  embodies  and  ex 
presses  in  her  charming  person  the  richness,  sweet 
ness,  brightness,  and  exuberance  of  the  sunny  South. 
Long  before  the  arrival  of  the  boat,  her  servant  was 
waiting  at  the  wharf  with  a  warm  note  of  welcome, 


ON    A    TOUR.  113 

in  a  rose-tinted  envelope,  inviting  your  "  fair  corres 
pondent  "  to  her  pleasant  and  hospitable  home.  The 
room  in  which  "  Lady  Emeline,"  Mrs.  Bremer,  and 
many  other  "  world-noted  women,"  had  rested  and 
written,  was,  as  they  say  in  Spain,  "  at  my  disposi 
tion  " — the  water  in  the  pitchers,  and  a  magnificent 
bouquet  of  garden  roses  on  the  table.  And  here  I 
might  dwell  upon  the  thoughtful  kindness,  the  deli 
cate  considerations,  the  artistic  surroundings,  that 
lend  a  nameless  grace  to  the  poetic  home  of  this  warm 
hearted,  noble-minded  woman.  But  I  will  not.  Let 
the  sweet  sanctuary  of  domestic  life  be  forever  veiled 
from  the  gaze  of  an  unsympathizing  world,  and  the 
fire-side  of  the  gifted  in  heart  and  soul  be  as  sacred 
from  intrusions  as  the  bridal-room  of  joy,  or  the 
darkened  chamber  of  sorrow. 

And  here,  too,  I  was  delighted,  and  yet  startled,  to 
meet  my  old  friend,  "  John  Phenix,"  one  of  the  wit 
tiest  of  wits  and  most  genial  of  gentlemen.  Poor 
fellow  !  He  has  been  very  ill,  with  an  obliquity  of 
vision  that  sees  everything  double  ;  and  that,  too, 
upon  a  strictly  cold  water  regimen !  But  he  is  bet 
ter  now  ;  and  although  unable  to  read  or  write,  (a 
great  loss  to  himself  and  to  the  world,)  his  conversa 
tion  is  an  exhilarating  stream  of  humor ;  and  his 
sparkling  spirits  are  as  good  as  a  tonic.  In  body  he 


114  BELLE    BRITTAN 

is  fifty  pounds  lighter  than  when  I  saw  him  last  sum 
mer  at  the  North ;  and,  strange  to  say,  his  heart 
seems  to  have  grown  "  light"  in  proportion.  "  Phe- 
nix"  is  a  brick,  with  all  the  corners  on  ;  and  I  com 
mend  his  health  to  the  prayerful  consideration  of  all 
genuine  lovers  of  innocent  fun.  Never  shall  I  forget 
the  fast  drive  he  gave  me  behind  his  beautiful  grey 
"  Black  Hawk,"  through  the  blooming  "  outskirts  " 
of  Mobile.  But  "  Phenix  "  is  married,  his  wife  is 
handsome  and  healthy,  and  his  little  ones  are  spring 
ing  up  like  daisies.  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  knew 
a  really  lovable  man  who  wasn't  married,  and  whose 
wife  was  not  diligently  endeavoring  to  outlive  him. 
Inexorable  fate ! 

The  Battle  House  is  one  of  the  very  best  hotels  in 
the  Union — a  Southern  institution  with  Northern 
principles,  and  a  sweet  little  bit  of  domestic  "  senti 
ment  "  recently  added,  in  the  shape  of  the  proprie 
tor's  lovely  and  accomplished  bride.  But  the  whis 
tle  of  the  St.  Charles  is  blowing  me  away,  and  to 
linger  is  to  be  left. 

The  steamer  is  crowded  ;  every  room,  berth,  and 
cot  taken.  Confusion  of  voices,  confusion  of  bag 
gage,  confusion  of  faces,  and  confusion  of  feelings. 
Here  is  a  lone  woman,  looking  disconsolate,  in  a 
dark  dress  and  red  shawl ;  with  something  in  her 


ON    A    TOUR.  115 

face  that  inclines  me  towards  her.     I  shall  make  her 
acquaintance  before  our  two  days'  journey  is  ended. 
I  have  already  done  it.      She  is  a  New-Yorker — 
young,  lovely  ;  and  but  six  months  married.     I  have 
learned  her  story — every  woman  has  a  story — it  is 
interesting ;  but  I  may  not  tell  it.     And  there  is 
another  New- York  lady — young,  handsome,  and  tho 
roughly  cosmopolitan  in  style,  manner,  and  conversa 
tion — leading  her  invalid  husband  by  the  hand,  who 
is  also  young,  rich,  but  almost  blind.     Sad  for  both ; 
and  sad  fur  all  who  have  eyes  to  see — and  to  lose. 
And  we  have  among  us  a  lady  who  sings  divinely — 
a  blessed  relief  from  the  dull  monotony  of  the  river, 
the  Kansas  talk  of  the  men,  and  the  smaller  talk  of 
the  women  ;  and  thus  we  pass  the  forty  long  hours, 
with  bad  sleeping,  bad  eating,  and  worse  drinking, 
and  reach  Montgomery  at  noon  on  Sunday.     And 
now,  in  a  bath  and  a  bed,  in  a  clean  sh —  and  clean 
sheets,  I  hope  to  find  a  great  refreshment.     With 
hair  down,  hoops  off,  strings  loose,  and  feet  in  slip 
pers, 

"Wearily,  yours, 

p.  g. — A.  woman's  letter  is  never  complete  with 
out  a  postscript,  which  is  sometimes  added  as  a  sort 


116  BELLE    BRITTAN 

of  snapper  to  the  whip.  Now  it  occurs  to  me,  I  will 
just  drop  a  hint  for  the  benefit  of  ladies  in  general, 
and  one  or  two  fair  ones  in  particular.  In  a  certain 
gay  drawing-room,  a  certain  young  lady  made  a  sys 
tematic  attempt  to  play  the  part  of  a  belle  ;  and,  as 
the  opera  critics  say,  made  a  most  successful  fiasco. 
It  was  like  the  showy  poppy,  with  its  gaudy  colors 
and  high  odor,  assuming  to  be  a  rose,  and  demanding 
the  homage  and  admiration  due  to  the  queen  of 
flowers.  Moral :  The  beauty,  grace,  and  esprit, 
which  constitute  the  indescribable  fascinations  of 
the  belle  can  never  be  counterfeited.  Again,  at  a 
certain  table  d'hote,  lined  with  the  beauty  and  fash 
ion  of  the  South,  my  eyes  were  caught  by  a  sweet 
little  woman,  one  of  the  fairest  and  most  fairy-like 
of  her  sex  ;  and,  while  sipping  her  soup,  I  thought 
her  perfectly  lovely ;  but,  lo  !  when  the  fish  came, 
she  thrust  a  broad-bladed  knife  into  her  little  rose 
bud  of  a  mouth,  in  the  most  dangerous  and  disen 
chanting  manner !  I  never  dared  look  at  her  again 
at  table.  It  must  have  been  a  horror  like  this  which 
made  Bvron  hate  to  see  a  woman  eat. 


ON    A    TOUR.  117 


LETTER    No.    XVIII. 

PULASKI  HOUSE,  SAVANNAH,  ) 
March  9,  1858.  ) 

MY  DEAR  : 

SINCE  leaving  Mobile  I  have  not  found  your 
"  Sunny  South."  particularly  sunny.  The  weather 
has  been  as  capricious  as  a  coquette,  and  a  great 
deal  colder.  March  came  in  wintry  and  blustering, 
and  I  have  pitied  the  poor,  precocious,  confiding 
roses,  that  have  bared  their  sweet  and  tender  bosoms 
to  its  biting  breath.  It  seems  as  if  the  seasons  are 
getting  shuffled  a  little  out  of  place ;  there  is  a  mis 
deal  somewhere,  and  the  days  due  in  January  have 
got  into  the  pack  for  March.  At  Montgomery,  we 
found  the  weather  cold  ;  the  hotel  cold  ;  everything 
cold  but  the  wine,  the  water,  and  the  women.  The 
latter  (of  our  party)  were  New-Yorkers,  and  as  warm 
as  furs  and  friendship  could  make  them.  As  for  the 
champagne,  there  was  no  ice  to  be  had,  and  the 
bottles  had  evidently  been  kept  in  the  warmest 
corner  of  the  cellar.  And  there  were  no  bells  in  the 
rooms,  and  not  half  covering  enough  on  the  beds. 
How  you  Southerners  would  scold  to  receive  such 
treatment  at  the  New- York  or  the  St.  Nicholas  as 
we  travelers  have  to  put  up  with  at  Montgomery, 
6* 


118  BELLE    BRITTAN 

at  Macon,  and,  with  two  or  three  exceptions,  at  all 
the  hotels  throughout  the  Southern  country.  And 
yet  they  charge  the  highest  rates  ;  and,  instead  of 
"  weak  fish  and  strong  tea,"  generally  reverse  the 
order,  and  give  you  strong  fish  and  weak  tea. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  indifference  to  the  wants 
of  guests,  I  give  the  following : — "We  arrived  at  the 
"  first  hotel"  in  a  certain  city  at  about  ten  o'clock 
at  night,  in  the  regular  train  of  cars,  at  the  regular 
hour.  We  were  a  party  of  four,  ladies  and  gentle 
men,  weary,  cold,  and  hungry.  The  landlords,  clerks, 
and  all  the  servants  were  up,  and  yet  they  could 
give  us  nothing  to  eat  or  drink.  The  only  alter 
native  was  to  go  out  to  an  eating-house  (where  they 
said  it  was  not  proper  for  ladies  to  go),  and  order  a 
supper  sent  to  the  hotel.  Of  course  an  extra  price 
had  to  be  paid  for  it.  And  here,  too,  one  of  the 
party,  a  lady  who  had  recently  returned  from  a  tour 
in  Europe,  lost  a  trunk  containing  all  her  choice 
dresses — a  huge  trunk,  with  her  name  printed  on  it 
in  full  in  large  letters.  It  was  taken,  with  a  lot  of 
other  baggage,  from  the  cars  to  the  hotel,  and  thence 
mysteriously  disappeared.  The  lady  was  on  her 
way  to  Washington,  and  her  loss  is  one  with  which 
the  ladies,  at  least,  can  keenly  sympathize.  But  she 
bore  it  like  a  philosopher  and  a  Christian. 


ON    A    TOUR.  119 

A  truce,  however,  to  grumbling.  For  myself,  I 
have  little  cause  to  complain,  and  only  mention  these 
incidental  annoyances  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
come  after.  These  reminders  of  Southern  hotel  in- 
commodations  may,  however,  serve  to  moderate  the 
complaints  of  Southern  guests,  who  sometimes  ex 
press  dissatisfaction  with  all  Northern  institutions, 
not  even  excepting  our  magnificent  hotels.  The  trip 
on  the  Alabama  river,  I  ought  to  add,  ba*s  not  been 
improved  by  the  monopoly  of  the  line.  The  rate  of 
fare  has  been  raised,  and  the  "  bill  of  fare  "  lowered. 
In  all  my  recent  journey  of  four  thousand  miles,  I 
have  nowhere  met  with  so  poor  a  table  as  on  board 
"  the  crack  steamer  " — the  St.  Charles.  Competition 
here  would  be  a  public  benefit.  Where's  Commodore 
Vanderbilt  ? 

Savannah  disappoints  me.  Its  beauties  have  been 
over-praised.  Like  a  belle,  with  an  "  established  re 
putation,"  everybody  acknowledges  her  charms,  with 
out  stopping  to  analyze  them.  It  is  a  sandy,  silent, 
stagnant  city,  and  almost  as  "  finished  "  as  the  town 
of  St.  Albans,  in  England,  where  there  has  not  been 
a  house  built  in  a  quarter  of  a  century.  True,  its 
streets  are  wide,  and  full  of  trees,  but  the  grass  grows 
in  them,  and  Venice  itself  can  scarcely  be  more  still 
and  lazy.  With  a  population  of  some  thirty  thou- 


120  BELLE    BR1TTAH 

sand,  there  seems,  to  be  less  human  oxygen  in  the 
atmosphere  than  sparkles  in  a  Northern  village  of  a 
year's  growth.  But  there  are  some  fine  people  here. 
Sneed,  the  journalist ;  Padelford,  the  merchant ; 
Tefft, the  autograph  collector;  Hodgson,  the  scholar; 
Locke,  the  cosmopolitan  ;  and  Pierpont,  the  preacher, 
are  "  regular  bricks,"  who  perfume  the  place  with 
pleasant  associations.  And  there  is  a  famous  ceme 
tery  here,  which  I  am  yet  to  see — a  beautiful  city  of 
the  dead,  that  is  said  to  be  far  more  attractive  (and 
which  will  soon  be  much  more  populous)  than  the 
city  of  the  living.  A  friend  is  about  to  call  and  take 
me  there,  but  not,  I  trust,  in  the  sable  omnibus  that 
never  brings  a  passenger  back. 

P.  S. — T  am  told  I  am  wrong  about  the  statu  quo- 
ness  of  Savannah.  The  population  has  doubled  since 
1840,  and  it  is  growing  slowly,  surely,  and  substan 
tially. 


LETTER    No.    XIX. 

.PCLASKI  HOUSE,  SAVANNAH,  \ 
March  11,  1858.  \ 

MY  DEAR : 

THE  allusion  to  the  beautiful  cemetery  of  "  Buena 
ventura,"  with  which  I  closed  my  last  letter,  conveys 


*  ON    A    TOUR.  121 

a  wrong  impression.  It  is  not  a  public  burial-place, 
but  the  private  property  of  Mr.  Wiltberger,  the  pro 
prietor  of  the  Pulaski  House — a  very  good  hotel,  by 
the  way,  which  takes  its  name  from  the  heroic  Pole 
who  fell  gallantly  in  defending  the  city  from  the 
British,  and  not,  as  the  Honorable  Miss  Murray  so 
carelessly  states,  from,  the  ill-fated  steamer  of  that 
name. 

I  cannot  hope  to  convey  by  means  of  words  any 
adequate  idea  of  the  strange,  solemn,  mysterious 
beauty  of  Buenaventura ;  nor  express  the  new  sen 
sations  there  awakened.  It  is  situated  about  four 
miles  from  the  city,  and  the  road  runs  through  a 
forest  of  pines,  from  whose  ever-green  tops  the  wind 
breathes  an  eternal  sigh — one  of  the  saddest  sounds 
in  nature.  The  grounds  reserved  by  the  will  of  the 
former  owner  to  burial  purposes,  consist  of  some 
seventy  acres,  covered  "with  live-oaks  of  immense 
size,  growing  in  'rows,  so  near  as  to  meet  in  arches 
overhead,  representing  the  long,  dim  aisles  of  an  im 
mense  minster.  But  these  trees  are  unlike  any 
other  trees,  being  veiled  and  shrouded  in  plumes 
and  pendants-  of  moss,  swaying  slowly  and  grace 
fully  in  the  air,  like  the  drooping  banners  of  the 
dead.  The  effect  is  indescribable.  The  forest  looks 
ghostly — as  if  the  morning  mist  were  caught  and 


122  BELLE    BRITTAN  * 

crystalized  into  a  sort  of  palpable  drapery,  or  like 
moonlight  condensed  into  tangible,  feathery  robes, 
or  like  smoke-wreaths,  fastened  and  festooned  to 
every  limb,  in  fantastic  frills  and  folds  and  ruffles. 
And  oh,  how  still  the  place  !  I  could  hear  my  own 
heart  beat. 

A  white  tomb  here  and  there  rises,  to  remind  us 
that  the  dead  are  sleeping  in  this  silent  sanctuary  ; 
and  the  spirit  of  repose  which  pervades  the  place 
becomes  absolutely  fascinating  to  the  world-weary 
heart.  I  remembered,  sympathizingly,  the  story  of 
the  clergyman  who,  longing  for  rest,  committed 
suicide  here  a  few  years  ago,  in  the  hope  of  being 
buried  in  its  peaceful  shades.  He  came  alone,  and 
was  smitten  with  the  beauty  of  death.  The  friendly 
river  ran  smiling  by,  and  he  plunged  in  to  rest.  For 
me,  there  was  added  to  the  gentle  gloom,  the  sweet 
sadness  of  "  Buenaventura,"  a  personal  interest,  a 
mournful  charm,  I  did  not  expect  to  find.  A  friend, 
whom  I  had  known  and  loved  from  childhood — a 
warm-hearted,  generous,  noble  friend — here  sleeps 
his  last  sleep ;  and  many  an  eye  will  moisten  with 
memories  of  the  past  as  it  gazes  upon  the  name  of 
Charley  Arnold. 

Savannah  improves  upon  acquaintance.     I  have 
seen  a  few  pretty  women;  met. several  agreeable 


ON    A    TOUR.  123 

gentlemen,  and  tasted  some  fine  wines.  The  Fifth. 
Avenue  of  the  city  bears  the  unattractive  name  of 
"  Bull  street,"  and  crosses  half-a-dozen  little  oval 
"  Squares,"  which  pedestrians  pass  through,  hut 
which  carriages  pass  around.  The  churches  are  nume 
rous,  especially  the  "  colored  churches  ;"  hut  without 
pretension  to  architectural  beauty,  with  one  excep 
tion,  and  that  has  a  spire  one  never  tires  of  looking 
at.  Willis,  finically,  compared  it  to  an  "  ever- 
pointed  pencil ;"  but  to  my  eye,  it  is  a  perfect  ever- 
pointed  spire,  and  nothing  else. 

The  Custom-House  is  a  fine  granite  building, 
which  is  also  used  as  a  Post-Office.  Banks  are 
plenty,  and  during  the  late  panic  they  stood  magna 
nimously  by  the  merchants,  renewing  their  notes, 
and  thus  preventing  catastrophes.  Neither  in  Sa 
vannah  nor  Charleston  has  there  been  a  single  fail 
ure  worth  mentioning. 

Thus  far,  in  my  rambling  notes,  I  have  not 
touched  upon  the  "  peculiar  institution"  and  ticklish 
subject  of  slavery  ;  but  I  can  no  longer  refrain  from 
expressing  the  opinion  I  have  long  entertained,  and 
which  has  now  settled  into  a  conviction,  that  the 
master  is  a  far  greater  sufferer  under  the  system 
than  the  slave.  This  latter,  so  far  as  my  observations 
have  extended,  is  everywhere  well  cared  for,  well- 


124  BELLE    BRITTAN 

treated,  and  not  overtasked.  I  have  not  yet  seen 
one  unhappy -looking  negro  in  the  South,  and  have 
heard  but  one  cross  word  uttered  by  a  master  to 
a  slave. 

I  have  witnessed  more  unkindness,  more  suffering, 
more  inhumanity,  in  the  city  of  New- York,  in  one 
day,  than  I  have  seen  in  the  South  in  three  months. 
In  fact  I  have  seen  here  no  suffering  at  all ;  no  evi 
dences  of  hunger,  or  cold,  or  destitution,  or  w/etched- 
ness,  of  any  description,  among  the  blacks.  The 
malignant  philanthropy  of  the  Northern  Abolitionists 
is  utterly  wasted  in  their  dolorous  clamor  over  the 
"  miseries  of  the  poor  slave."  They  know  nothing 
of  the  practical  workings  of  the  system  they  are  so 
noisy  and  mischievously  berating.  But  the  rabid 
abolitionist  is  not  a  whit  more  contemptible  than  the 
opposite  extremist,  (a  specimen  of  whom  has  been 
exhibiting  his  ears  in  one  of  the  Savannah  papers, 
over  the  signature  of  "  Cambridge,")  who  are  so 
madly  intolerant  of  free  opinions,  that  they  would 
persecute  a  man  for  even  privately  entertaining  a  theo 
retical  antagonism  to  slavery.  It  is  a  pity  that 
every  such  Southern  jackass  could  not  be  voted  to  a 
Northern  abolition  jenny,  and  the  twain  be  made  to 
do  the  most  menial  work  of  the  niggers,  and  take 
their  stripes  if  they  "  kick  in  harness." 


ON    A    TOUR.  125 


LETTER    No.    XX. 

MILLS'S  HOUSE,  CHARLESTON,  ^ 
March  14,  1858.          i 

MY  DEAR  -  : 

"  As  the  crow  flies,"  the  distance  from  Savannah 
to  Charleston  is  less  than  a  hundred  miles  ;  but  as 
the  steamers  run  (inside  route)  it  is  a  slow,  circuitous 
journey  of  twenty  seven-hours.  And  such  a  voyage  ! 
Navigation  through  a  cane-brake,  where  the  river 
creek,  or  ditch,  or  whatever  its  name,  is  often  appa 
rently  narrower  than  the  steamboat  ;  and  the  "hands" 
have  to  "  work  her  along"  by  thrusting  long  poles 
into  the  oozy  banks,  occasionally  going  ashore  to 
"  make  fast"  to  boards  driven  into  the  mud,  in  order 
to  "  raise  a  purchase,"  and  wind  the  vessel  off  with 
the  windlass.  The  progress  was  tedious  ;  but  the 
scene  was  amusing.  To  see  Capt.  Brittan,  of  the 
steamship  Jason,  straining  away  at  the  pushing  poles 
with  a  group  of  red-shirted  negroes,  made  Mackay's 
eye  for  the  picturesque  twinkle  with  delight  ;  and  I 
am  not  sure  but  we  may  soon  see  a  spirited  sketch  in 
the  Illustrated  News,  entitled  "  Working  a  passage 
on  board  the  St.  Mary's." 

We  had  but  few  passengers  ;  and,  besides  your 
"  fair  correspondent,"  only  one  lady,  who  was  made 


126  BELLE    BRITTAN 

the  most  of.  There  were  only  two  books  on  board  : 
the  Bible,  and  Grrayson's  "  Hireling  and  Slave." 
After  reading  the  latter,  which  is  really  a  very  vigor 
ous  poem,  to  come  from  a  novice  of  three-score  and 
ten,  (his  "  maiden  effort,"  I  believe,)  I  betook  my 
self  to  the  former,  a  very  popular,  but  not  very  well 
understood  publication ;  and  tried  to  bring  to  its 
familiar  pages  an  "  inquiring  mind  and  an  under 
standing  heart."  So  I  took  it  up  as  if  it  were  a 
volume  just  issued  from  the  press,  and  sent  to  me 
"with  the  compliments  of  the  author,"  to  read  and 
"  notice."  Beginning  at  the  beginning,  I  endeavored 
to  forget  the  comments  of  the  commentators,  and  the 
interpretations  of  the  priests.  And  my  first  objection 
is  against  the  limited  time — the  "  six  days"  of  the 
Creation.  I  believe  this  planet  is  as  old  as  Eternity; 
that  matter  always  was,  and  always  will  be ;  and  that 
annihilation  is  an  impossibility.  All  things  change  ; 
nothing  is  destroyed.  "When  it  comes  to  the  account 
of  the  creation  of  Man,  I  find  the  whole  story  of  the 
Garden  of  Eden  *  *  *  *  a  beautiful  allegory, 
which  satisfied  the  ignorant  masses,  who  questioned 
too  seriously  touching  the  origin  of  the  human  race. 
So  I  am  inclined  to  think  we  have  ascended  from  the 
tadpole,  rather  than  descended  from  Adam ;  or,  as 
Agassiz  believes,  from  four  or  five  Adams.  Then  of 


ON    A    TOUR.  127 

Moses,  the  foundling — the  "Washington  of  the  Jews. 
In  order  to  inspire  obedience,  and  to  establish  an 
absolute  control  over  his  people,  he  issued  his  man 
dates  under  the  awful  sanction  of  the  Jewish  Jeho 
vah  ;  beginning  and  ending  his  orders  with — "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord."  *  *  *  *  Moses  was  a  great 
leader  as  well  as  a  wise  law-maker  ;  and  understood 
the  secret  of  managing  the  people.  In  order  to  in 
spire  reverence  and  admiration  for  the  priests,  he 
ordered  a  magnificent  robe  to  be  made  for  Aaron, 
begirt  with  gems  and  jewels,  and  richly  trimmed 
with  gold.  We  still  see  the  semblance  of  the  u  ephod ;" 
and  they  who  wear  it  assume  peculiar  sanctity  and 
authority. 

But  this  will  never  do.  I  am  departing  from  the 
traditions  of  the  elders,  and  the  priests  will  be  after 
me  with  a  sharp  stick.  Leaving  Moses  in  Egypt,  let 
us  come  down  to  Charleston — a  very  pleasant  city 
of  about  60,000  inhabitants,  all  told  ;  but  looking  as 
if  it  contained  twice  that  number.  As  yet,  I  have 
seen  but  little,  except  a  throng  of  well-dressed  Afri 
cans  going  to  and  from  church  ;  and  a  charming 
citizen,  by  the  name  of  Mure,  one  of  the  leading 
merchants  of  the  city.  How  pleasant  everything 
looks  in  the  presence  of  an  intelligent,  agreeable 
companion  !  And  here  let  me  drop  a  word  of  advice 


128  BELLE    BRITTAN 

X 

pro  bono  publico :  and  that  is,  never  travel  alone. 
It  is  a  sad  business.  If  not  convenient  to  roam  the 
world  with  the  one  you  love  best,  (and  it  seldom  is,) 
select  the  wittiest,  wisest,  and  best- tempered  friend 
you  have,  to  accompany  you ;  and  in  such  society 
every  pleasure  will  be  doubled,  and  every  annoyance 
diminished.  But  to  wander  about  alone— desolate 
and  dreary — a  stranger  in  a  strange  city — is  more 
wearisome  than  the  life  of  a  Sing  Sing  student — 
"  hard  labor  and  close  confinement." 

This  is  another  digression.  The  truth  is,  I  am 
rather  hard  up  for  a  subject,  having' as  yet  seen  little 
that  is  letterable  but  niggers.  A  young  lady  in  the 
drawing-room  has  been  rhapsodizing  for  the  last  half 
hour  over  a  colored  Sunday  school  she  has  just  visited. 
"  There  were  a  hundred  children ;  and  the  first 
ladies  of  Charleston  were  their  teachers !"  A  fact 
not  to  be  found  in  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  These 
negroes  run  to  religion  like  *  ducks  to  water ;  and 
every  little  darkey  that  can  speak  an  intelligible 
lingo,  is  brim  full  of  hymns  and  catechism.  For 
merly  the  slaves  were  nearly  all  of  the  Methodist 
"  persuasion  ;"  but  the  Baptists,  with  their  palpable 
and  sanitary  dogma  of  immersion,  are  bringing  these 
colored  lambs  into  their  folds  "  like  clouds  and  droves 
to  their  windows."  The  negroes  can  understand  the 


ON    A    TOUR.  129 

purification  of  baptism  ;  and  it  is  a  great  pity  that 
the  "  rite"  is  not  enforced  as  a  daily  duty.  Who 
will  start  a  new  religion — the  religion  of  cleanliness  ? 
John  the  Baptist  must  precede  Jesus. 


LETTER    No.    XXI, 

RICHMOND,      i 
March  20,  1858.  $ 

MY  DEAR : 

LIKE  the  little  urchin,  who  offered  as  an  excuse  for 
not  knowing  his  lesson  that  he  "  hadn't  got  the  hang 
of  the  new  schoolhouse,"  so  my  stay  was  too  short 
in  Charleston  to  enable  me  to  catch  the  spirit  of  the 
place,  or  to  see  much,  or  say  much  of  the  city  and 
its  citizens.  I  am  told  it  is  one  of  the  most  aristo 
cratic  cities  in  the  Union,  and  that  the  society  is  very 
select,  and,  consequently,  very  refined  and  cultivated. 
The  planters  and  the  merchants  take  things  easy, 
and  their  wives  and  daughters  still  more  so.  Nobody 
seems  to  be  in  a  hurry  to  go  to  bed,  or  to  get  up,  or 
to  go  to  work.  Time  is  not  counted  as  money,  and 
days  and  minutes  are  not  coined  into  dollars  and  cents. 
It  is,  emphatically,  a  slow  city — slow  in  its  growth, 
slow  in  its  movements,  slow  in  its  hotels,  slow  in  its 
men,  slow  in  its  women,  slow  in  its  wines.  Nobody 


130  BELLE    BRITTAN 

gets  run  over  in  its  streets,  nobody  gets  "  run  down' 
in  its  newspapers.  The  busiest  gentleman  finds 
time  to  lunch  and  lounge  at  the  "  club,"  and  the 
ladies  an  infinite  deal  of  leisure  to  drive  or  saunter  in 
the  streets,  and  to  indulge  in  their  idlest  caprices  at 
home.  In  a  word,  the  Charlestonians  seem  to  take 
things  very  coolly,  and  never  suffer  themselves  to 
get  into  a  vulgar  perspiration,  except  on  the  subject 
of  politics. 

How  unlike  the  hurry-scurry  life  of  the  North. 
There  we  have  not  time  enough  to  eat  or  to  sleep  ;  not 
time  enough  for  work,  and  none  for  play  ;  scarcely 
time  enough  to  be  born,  or  to  die,  decently.  Even 
our  funerals  are  hurried  ;  and  our  hearse-horses  are 
fast  trotters !  "What  a  luxury  is  "an  elegant 
leisure."  And  this,  I  suppose  is  the  secret  of  the 
Southern  aristocracy.  Surely  it  is  not  mere  money  ; 
we  have  an  abundance  of  that  element  in  the  North. 
But  the  more  we  have  the  more  we  want.  And  so 
we  rush  on  to  gather  the  golden  harvest,  not  yet 
ready  to  stop,  wash  hands,  fix  ourselves  up  generally, 
and  devote  the  fleeting  hours  to  refinement  and  cul 
tivation.  Is  it  ancient  blood,  or  beauty,  or  talent,  or 
knowledge,  that  creates  a  social  aristocracy  ?  Our 
"  first  families"  are  as  old  at  the  North  as  at  the 
South  ;  our  women  are  as  beautiful,  and  our  men  as 


ON    A    TOUR.  131 

learned  and  as  gifted.  But  we  are  all  in  a  vulgar  hurry, 
and  scramble  after  something,  too  often  desperately 
industrious  in  idle  and  aimless  pursuits,  with  no 
blessed  leisure  for  love,  or  hope,  or  joy,  or  even  grief. 
Bachelors  haven't  time  to  marry,  husbands  haven't 
time  to  pet  their  wives,  while  the  women,  especially 
of  the  fashionable  class,  "  have  no  time  for  nothing." 
A  little  less  haste  would  be  decidedly  more  graceful 
and  agreeable.  The  Spaniards  say,  "  God  is  never 
in  a  hurry." 

A  large  proportion  of  the  citizens  of  Charleston 
are  plantation  proprietors,  who  vibrate  between  town 
and  country  as  it  suits  their  tastes,  independently  of 
business  considerations.  And  these  wealthy  patri- 
archical  planters  are  quite  princely  and  Oriental 
in  their  hospitalities.  They  have  not  only  ample 
time  and  means  to  devote  to  the  entertainment  of 
strangers,  but  find  sufficient  compensation  for  their 
generosity  in  the  society  that  breaks  the  monotony 
and  dissipates  the  ennui  of  their  leisure  lives.  It  is 
pleasant  enough  to  feel  that  one  has  hundreds  of 
acres  of  growing  rice  and  cane,  and  corn  and  cotton, 
but  it  is  tiresome  to  walk  or  ride  through  the  same 
grounds,  day  after  day,  to  see  it  grow.  So  the 
planter  always  delights  to  have  a  fresh,  intelligent 
companion  at  his  side,  who  sees  the  operations  of 


132  BELLE    BRITTAN 

the  fields  and  the  mills  with  new  eyes;  and  to 
whom  he  is  happy  to  explain  the  processes  of  plant 
ing,  cultivating,  and  harvesting  the  sugar,  the  weed, 
or  the  grain. 

I  had  not  been  an  hour  in  the  city  before  Gren. 
Gadsden  called  with  an  invitation  to  visit  his  rice 
plantation  on  the  Cooper  River,  about  twenty-five 
miles  from  town.  We  left  in  the  cars  at  three 
o'clock,  and  in  an  hour  reached  the  depot  upon  the 
estate,  where  a  carriage  waited  to  take  us  some 
four  miles  to  the  mansion  of  the  proprietor.  And 
here  the  venerable  and  excellent  Gren.  Gadsden, 
whose  name  is  honorably  associated  with  the  treaty 
which  settled  all  the  difficulties  between  the  United 
States  and  Mexico,  lives  like  a  fine  old  Southern 
gentleman,  all  of  the  good  old  time.  A  long  and 
gracefully  curving  avenue  of  live-oaks  leads  to  the 
fine  large  house  (built  some  twenty  years  ago  to 
please  a  Boston  bride),  with  a  beautiful  flower 
garden  in  front,  and  a  rich  kitchen  garden  in  the 
rear — the  one  giving  a  sweet  and  smiling  welcome, 
and  the  other  abundant  assurance  of  more  substan 
tial  cheer.  Sitting  down  to  a  sumptuous  dinner  at 
five,  we  lingered  over  the  "feast  of  reason"  and  the 
flow  of  bowl  and  soul,  until  the  clock  told  the  hour 
for  retiring.  What  a  stilly  night ;  and  what  a  deep, 


ON    A    TOUR.  133 

delicious,  oblivious  sleep !  At  early  dawn,  the 
"feathered  songsters  of  the  grove"  began  their  ma 
tins,  led  by  the  "  mocking  bird,  wildest  of  singers." 
I  lay  and  listened  to  their  lay  in  a  semi- somnolent, 
dreamy  delirium  of  delight.  The  melodious  jargon 
still  lingers  in  my  ear,  like  the  music  in  the  sails  of 
the  Ancient  Mariner, 

"  Which  still  kept  on 

A  pleasant  noise  till  noon, 
A  sound  as  of  a  hidden  brook 
In  the  leafy  month  of  June." 

After  breakfast  we  drove  to  the  rice  fields,  and 
then  walked  around  them,  a  distance  of  some  three 
miles,  to  witness  the  system  of  planting.  Gen. 
Gradsden's  estate  consists  of  about  twenty-five  hun 
dred  acres,  but  only  a  small  portion  of  it  is  suitable 
for  the  cultivation  of  rice.  These  grounds  border 
on  the  river,  and  must  be  overflowed  as  soon  as 
planted,  and  then  twice  afterwards  before  the  crop 
is  ripened.  They  are  as  level  and  as  flat  as  a 
prairie,  and  it  needs  no  argument  to  prove  that  none 
but  negroes  can  live  in  working  them.  The  African, 
like  the  black  snake,  is  sun-proof.  The  riee  is  sown 
in  shallow  trenches,  lightly  covered  with  earth. 
The  sowing  and  all  the  lightest  work  is  done  by  the 
women,  although  they  are  said  to  be  better  hoers 

7       ' 


134  BELLE    BRITTAN 

than  the  men.  Upon  this  estate  there  are  two  hun 
dred  slaves,  all  looking  well-fed,  well-clothed,  and 
well-contented  with  their  lot.  In  passing  the 
"  nursery,"  some  sixty  little  black  birds  came  out  to 
see  us.  They  were  from  twelve  years  old  down,  to 
perhaps  as  many  days,  and  all  the  older  ones  held 
younger  ones  in  their  arms.  It  was  a  picture  of 
sable  infantry  worth  seeing,  and  hearing,  too,  for 
the  way  they  sung  about  "Sweet  Canaan,"  and 
other  heavenly  hopes  and  homes,  would  have  done 
credit  to  an  upper-ten  Sunday-school  in  the  most 
aristocratic  church  in  Fifth  Avenue.  The  "belle" 
of  the  plantation,  whose  graceful  movements  caught 
my  eye  in  the  rice  field,  is  one  of  the  finest  figures  in 
ebony  I  have  ever  seen.  I  was  not  surprised  to 
learn  that  she  was  the  best  dancer  on  the  plantation, 
nor  that  she  was  married.  The  way  she  waltzes, 
polkas,  and  pirouettes,  is  a  caution  to  susceptible 
darkies. 

There  is  one  veteran  slave  among  them,  who  was 
imported  from  Africa  before  the  closing  of  the  traffic 
in  1804.  He  is  so  old  as  to  have  lost  his  reck 
oning  ;  but  hoary  as  he  is,  he  has  recently  taken  to 
his  leathery  bosom  a  youthful  bride,  from  a  neigh 
boring  "dominion,"  and  is  abundantly  blessed  with 
the  "  fruits  of  his  old  age."  Uncle  Ned  is  a  charac- 


ON    A    TOUR.  135 

ter,  and  a  pet  of  the  plantation.  He  is  mostly  em 
ployed  in  pattering  about  the  garden.  He  is  much 
addicted  to  "the  weed,"  and  does  not  object  to  good 
whisky.  On  receiving  a  glass  from  the  hand  of  his 
master,  and  being  called  on  to  drink  the  health  of 
the  company,  he  proceeded  to  toast  each  person 
present,  with  sentiments  and  manners  worthy  of  a 
courtier. 

The  domestic  accommodations  of  the  slaves  are 
quite  comfortable.  They  all  have  gardens  attached 
to  their  houses,  where  they  raise  poultry  and  vege 
tables,  which  they  sell  to  their  masters,  or  take  to 
the  nearest  market,  and  spend  the  proceeds  usually 
for  articles  of  dress.  Their  work  is  mostly  laid 
out  in  "  tasks,"  and  the  industrious  and  active  get 
through  their  labor  early  in  the  day,  often  by  twelve 
o'clock,  or,  if  they  persevere,  get  through  their 
week's  work  by  Thursday  or  Friday,  when  the 
balance  of  the  time  is  entirely  at  their  own  disposal. 
They  have  a  chapel  for  their  own  use,  which,  on 
Sundays,  is  filled  with  a  well-dressed  and  most  de 
vout  congregation,  to  whom  a  white  Baptist  or  Meth 
odist  minister  delivers  pious  exhortations. 


136  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.  XXII. 

RICHMOND,  March  22,  1858. 
MY  DF.AR  : 

IT  is  a  long  and  weary,  dreary  road  from  Charles 
ton  to  Richmond.  The  train  that  leaves  the  former 
city  at  2  p.  M.  promises  to  deposit  the  passengers  in 
the  latter  at  7  P.  M.  on  the  following  day — a  dis 
tance  of  about  five  hundred  miles  in  twenty-eight 
hours — an  average  speed  of  not  over  eighteen  miles 
an  hour,  including  stops.  The  fare  is  at  the  rate  of 
a  fraction  more  than  three  cents  a  mile.  But  the 
promise  as  to  time  is  not  always  kept.  An  accident 
to  the  engine  detained  us  a  night  in  Petersburg,  a 
venerable  and  respectable-looking  city  of  twenty-five 
thousand  inhabitants,  an  hour  south  of  Richmond. 
I  did  not  murmur  at  the  mishap  the  next  day,  for 
two  reasons — a  delicious  fish  supper  at  the  Boling- 
broke  Hotel ;  and  the  glorious  sunrise  (a  novelty  to 
most  eyes),  which  made  our  ride  into  Richmond 
magnificently  enchanting.  Leaving  the  station  just 
as  the  faint,  crepuscular  light  which  precedes  the 
dawn,  began  to  chase  the  darkness  from  the  brow  of 
night,  and  to  dim 

"  The  lingering  star  with  lessening  ray, 
That  loves  to  greet  the  early  morn," — 


ON    A    TOUR.  137 

every  moment  was  the  revelation  of  a  new  glory. 
The  heralds  of  light  came  forth  at  first  with  pale  and 
purple  banners  ;  then  the  nearer  and  more  radiant 
attendants  upon  the  Great  King  carpeted  his  gor 
geous  pathway  with  garments  of  changeable  crimson 
and  gold ;  gradually  preparing  the  opening  eyes  of 
all  living  things  to  receive  the  ineffable  splendor. 
And  lo  !  He  comes,  and  "  looks  in  boundless  ma 
jesty  abroad."  The  skies  are  seas  of  fluid  gold  ;  the 
earth  and  the  ocean  an  infinity  of  smiles  ;  and  every 
blade  of  grass  sheds  its  glittering  tear  of  joy. 

On  our  way  hither,  the  monotony  of  the  ride 
through  the  everlasting  wilderness  of  Carolina  pines, 
was  broken  by  one  of  the  most  fiendish  outrages  I 
have  ever  witnessed.  It  was  in  the  night,  about  a 
hundred  miles  this  side  of  Charleston.  The  train  was 
running  at  moderate  speed,  when  the  crash  of  broken 
glass  and  a  faint  cry  brought  every  passenger  to  his 
feet.  A  brickbat  had  been  hurled  through  the  win 
dow,  hitting  a  gentleman  on  the  head,  and  cutting, 
with  a  piece  of  glass,  a  deep  gash  between  the  eye 
brow  and  the  eyeball.  Pressing  his  hand  upon  the 
wound,  the  blood  spirted  through  his  fingers  fearfully. 
His  young  wife,  who  sat  by  his  side,  strove  to  com 
fort  him,  even  while  it  appeared  that  the  eye  had 
been  destroyed.  But  when  the  blood  was  washed 


138  BELLE    BR1TTAN 

off,  and  the  eye  itself  was  found  to  be  uninjured, 
woman  like,  she  gave  way  to  her  emotions,  and 
sobbed  and  wept  like  a  child.  For  the  first  time,  I 
felt  that  the  summary  justice  of  Lynch  law  would 
fittest  execute  the  will  of  (rod.  If  the  murderous 
scoundrel  who  perpetrated  this  cowardly  crime  could 
have  been  caught,  I  do  not  believe  there  was  a  man, 
woman,  or  child  in  the  car  who  would  not  have 
relished  his  instant  hanging,  unless  a  keener  sense  of 
justice  had  suggested  a  more  exquisite  torture.  Only 
a  few  days  previous,  a  rifle  bullet  was  shot  through 
a  car  window  in  Georgia,  grazing  the  brow  of  a  pas 
senger. 

I  am  writing  from  one  of  the  filthiest  hotels  in  the 
Union,  so  far  as  my  experience  goes,  which  is  "  some." 
The  carpet  on  the  floor  is  ragged  and  dirty  ;  the 
rooms  are  small,  and  dark,  and  dingy  ;  the  beds 
skimpy  and  uneasy  ;  the  floor  of  the  halls  and  corri 
dors  slippery  with  tobacco  juice ;  1he  cooking  bad, 
the  attendance  worse,  and  the  landlord  looking  as  if 
he  had  swallowed  a  meat  axe.  Consequently  my 
first  impressions  (on  this,  my  second  visit  to  Rich 
mond)  are  not  particularly  agreeable  to  begin  with. 
So  I  will  take  a  walk,  and  see  what  a  little  fresh  air 
may  do  in  the  way  of  ventilation,  exhilaration,  per 
haps  inspiration.  (I  feel  better  for  it.)  The  city  is 


ON    A   TOUR.  139 

beautifully  located,  and  bears,  it  is  said,  a  strong 
resemblance  to  its  lovely  namesake  in  England. 
The  population  is  fifty  thousand.  James  River 
makes  it  a  port.  The  flour  mills  are  the  specialty 
in  the  manufacturing  line.  The  Haxall  Mills. 

o  / 

whose  brand  is  famous  the  world  over,  can  turn  out 
twenty-five  hundred  barrels  a  day.  The  "  Holly 
wood  Cemetery"  is  a  charming  place,  with  sleeping 
accommodations  for  the  dead  almost  equal  in  variety 
and  beauty  to  "  Mount  Auburn."  Some  of  the 
tombs  are  too  pretentious — tombs  always  are,  when 
they  look  showy  and  costly  ;  but  the  larger  number 
of  the  monuments  that  rise  above  the  little  "  private 
chambers"  of  the  sleepers  are  in  good  taste  and 
keeping.  To  my  eye,  however,  anything  engraved 
upon  a  tombstone,  more  than  the  name  and  date  of 
birth  and  death,  is  a  work  of  supererogation.  To 
"lie  like  a  tombstone"  has  become  a  vulgar,  but 
truthful  proverb.  Sometimes  a  single  word,  express 
ing  endearment,  or  bereavement,  is  tenderly  touching, 
as :  "  My  darling  Ella  ;"  "  My  only  one  ;"  but  the 
record  of  love  in  the  hearts  of  the  living  is  the  best 
of  all  eulogiums.  To  the  unconscious  dead,  what  a 
mockery  is  the  marble  mausoleum,  with  its  carved 
panegyrics !  It  is  better  to  feed  the  hungry  than  to 
build  monuments. 


140  BELLE    BRITTAN 

The  "  Lion"  of  Richmond,  which  every  traveler 
now  hastens  to  see,  and  which  strangers  will  rush 
to  see  for  hundreds,  perhaps  thousands  of  years,  is 
Crawford's  Equestrian  Statue  of  Washington,  re 
cently  erected,  dedicated,  and  uncovered  to  the  pub 
lic.  It  is  a  great  work  ;  worthy  of  the  artist — wor 
thy  of  the  subject,  and  worthy  of  the  patriotic  peo 
ple  in  whose  presence  it  stands — a  monument  and  a 
monitor.  The  only  criticism  I  shall  venture  to  offer 
is,  that  the  pedestal  is  too  small  for  the  size  of  the 
statue.  That  horse,  we  must  regard  as  a  live  one  ; 
and  if  he  steps  one  inch  backwards  he  falls.  The 
knee  of  the  left  fore  leg  looks  a  little  stiff,  as  if  he 
had  just  trod  on  a  sharp  stone  ;  but  with  the  excep 
tion  of  these  defects,  if  they  really  are  delects,  all  is 
great,  and  grand,  a"nd  truthful.  The  bronze  figures 
of  Jefferson  and  Patrick  Henry,  the  philosopher  and 
the  orator,  upon  the  basement,  are  perfect. 

"  Houdon's  Washington,"  in  the  Capitol,  gives  one 
a  new  idea  of  the  "  Father  of  his  Country."  It  is 
more  manly,  more  martial,  more  human,  and  more 
humane,  than  the  pictorial  presentment  of  Stuart, 
whose  cold,  stolid,  stereotyped  face  has  been  stamped 
upon  us  all  in  our  cradles.  I  was  glad  to  learn  that 
Lafayette,  when  he  saw  this  fine  statue,  exclaimed : 
"  That  is  Washington." 


ON    A    TOUR. 


141 


In  a  letter  from  Madame  Le  Vert,  who  is  just 
now  devoting  heart  and  soul  to  the  "Mount  Yernon 
Cause"  (and  who  has  already  raised  over  four  thou 
sand  dollars  for  the  fund),  I  am  enjoined  "not  to 
leave  Richmond  without  visiting  the  Southern  Ma 
tron" — the  enthusiastic  lady  who  has  set  this  Mount 
Yernon  hall  in  motion.  She  is,  I  believe,  a  native  of 
Charleston,  and  an  invalid  from  infancy.  Never 
having  been  married,  the  title  of  "  Matron"  is,  of 
course,  a  misnomer  ;  unless,  by  a  figure  of  speech, 
we  may  call  her  the  "  Virgin  Mother"  of  the  great 
cause  to  which  she  is  dedicating  her  feeble,  yet  most 
effective  existence.  Having  enlisted  such  powerful 
auxiliaries  as  the  eloquent  Everett,  and  those  grace 
ful  and  irresistible  pleaders,  Madame  LeVert  and 
Mrs.  Cora  Ritchie,  the  "  Matron" — Miss  Cunning 
ham — already  regards  her  patriotic  project  as  un  fait 
accompli.  Over  seventy-five  thousand  dollars  in  cash 
are  raised ;  Mr.  Washington  agrees  to  sell  the  de 
sired  portion  of  the  Mount  Vernon  estate  ;  the  Legis 
lature  of  Virginia  has  just  incorporated  the  "  Mount 
Vernon  Association ;"  the  Masonic  fraternity  have 
taken  up  the  cause  with  their  usual  zeal ;  and  the 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  is  sure  to  come  speed 
ily,  and  five  times  the  amount  if  necessary.  The  act 
of  incorporation  provides  that  they  may  hold  and  im- 

7* 


142  BELLE    BRITTAN 

prove  two  hundred  acres  of  Mount  Vernon,  including 
the  mansion  and  tomb  of  Washington,  the  garden, 
grounds,  wharf  and  landing  on  the  Potomac  river  ; 
and  to  this  end  they  may  receive  from  the  proprietor 
a  deed  in  fee  simple  of  the  land,  &c.,  but  shall  not 
have  power  to  alienate  the  said  land  without  the 
consent  of  the  Legislature.  The  capital  stock  is 
limited  to  $500,000.  The  proprietor  is  to  be  al 
lowed  to  inter  the  remains  of  such  persons  as  are 
now  in  the  vault,  but  not  interred.  The  enclosure 
of  the  vault  is  not  to  exceed  half  an  acre,  and  shall 
never  be  removed  nor  disturbed  ;  nor  shall  any  other 
person  hereafter  ever  be  interred  or  entombed  within 
the  said  vault  or  enclosure ;  and  if  the  Association 
shall  cease  to  exist,  the  property  shall  revert  to  the 
State,  to  hold  forevej  sacred  the  purposes  for  which 
it  was  originally  purchased. 

I  found  Miss  Cunningham  confined  to  her  bed 
and  marveled  to  see  such  strength  coming  out  of 
weakness.  It  is  the  power  of  thought,  or  will,  or 
rather  of  love,  that  creates  and  controls  the  worlds. 
There,  pale  and  physically  feeble,  this  chief  apostle 
of  Mount  Vernonism  has  a  patriotic  fire  in  her  eye 
that  never  fails  to  kindle  a  most  contagious  enthusi 
asm.  But  my  sheet  is  full ;  I  must  break  off'  in  the 
middle,  and  in  my  next  give  some  fuller  sketches  of 


ON    A   TOUR.  143 

Richmond,    on   whose    hill    "  there   lives   a   lass," 
&c.,  &c. 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER     No.    XXII  I. 

a 


WILLARD'S  HOTEL, 
WASHINGTON,  March  25,  1858. 


I  AM  delighted  once  more  to  find  myself  in  the 
familiar  cosmopolitan  city  of  Washington,  the  point 
of  my  departure  some  ten  weeks  ago  ;  since  which 
time  I  have  made  a  circuit  of  over  four  thousand 
miles ;  and  seen — but  I  cannot  stop  to  recall  who 
and  what.  I  have  seen  during  this  long  and  most  de 
lightful  journey.  Perhaps  I  may  indulge  in  such 
reminiscences  at  some  future  day.  For  the  present, 
my  pen  lingers  with  my  heart  over  the  lovely  city  of 
Richmond.  It  was  there  I  found  '.'  the  light  of  other 
days"  beaming  from  the  sweet  face  of  one  whose 
name,  as  artiste  and  author,  is  warmly  enshrined  in 
the  memories  of  millions  ;  and,  as  a  wife  and  a  woman, 
cherished,  less  widely,  but  more  sacredly  still.  Mrs. 
Anna  Cora  Ritchie  lives,  as  a  poet  should,  in  a  home 
of  poetic  beauty,  in  a  cottage  orne,  a  little  distance 
from  the  centre  of  the  city.  I  could  have  selected 


144 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


her  house  from  a  thousand,  as  easily  as  I  could  the 
fair  occupant  among  a  multitude  of  women.  There 
were  flowers  before  the  door,  flowers  in  the  lawn,  a 
flowery  taste  manifest  in  the  disposition  of  the  win- 
daw  drapery  ;  a  pleasant,  affectionate,  riant  expres 
sion  radiating  from  all  around,  fitly  preluding  the 
holy  harmony  of  a  happy  home.  Within,  the  entour 
age  was  even  more  exquisite  still.  Books,  pictures, 
statuettes,  and  all  the  every-day,  yet  elegant  appli 
ances  of  household  life,  completed  the  ideal  "  poetry 
of  home."  I  was  sorry  to  find  the  fair  priestess  of 
this  domestic  sanctuary  confined  to  her  lounge  by  a 
temporary  illness ;  but  there  was  no  "  influenza"  in 
her  heart ;  no  "  cold"  in  her  hand  or  face.  The 
society  of  the  moment  happened  to  be  rather  remark 
able,  and  entirely  agreeable  to  the  lovely  laughing 
invalid.  Everett,  the  orator,  and  Mackay,  the  poet, 
sat  by  her  side  ;  and  between  the  gifted  trio,  there 
was  no  lack  of  inspiration  to  poetic  discourse,  which 
imparted  a  glowing  enthusiasm  to  the  conversation, 
and  hrought  back  the  red  roses  to  her  cheeks.  I 
must  not  forget  the  angelic  presence  of  a  sweet  little 
girl — a  Paris-born  child — 

"  A  lovely  apparition  sent 

To  be  a  household  ornament,'' 


ON    A    TOUR.  145 

whose  merry,  innocent  prattle,  was  like  the  morning 
melody  of  the  lark — so  near  it  seemed  to  heaven. 
Oh  !  these  blessed,  beautiful  little  ones  !  these  pre 
cious  epitomes  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  how  dark, 
and  dreary,  and  wretched,  and  wicked  this  world 
would  be  without  them  ! 

Mrs.  Ritchie  placed  in  my  hands,  at  parting,  her 
"  Twin  Roses,"  the  sweet  title  of  her  latest  and  best 
production.  It  is  a  story  of  stage  life,  most  touch- 
in  gly  told  ;  a  work  that  few  can  read  with  dry  eyes 
or  unsoftened  hearts.  The  "  Twin  Roses"  are  twin 
sisters ;  the  one  a  pale  and  beautiful  invalid,  the 
other  a  bright  embodiment  of  fresh  and  ruddy  life — 
the  white  rose  of  Thought  and  the  red  rose  of  Pas 
sion.  Incidentally,  the  book  contains  some  of  the 
finest  descriptions  of  American  scenery  to  be  found 
in  the  language.  The  visits  to  Mount  Yernon,  to  the 
Natural  Bridge,  and  to  Weyer's  Cave,  are  pictures  of 
word-painting  seldom  surpassed.  Mr.  James,  the 
veteran  novelist,  in  a  very  able  review  of  Mrs. 
Ritchie's  book,  says : 

"  '  Twin  Roses'  is  evidently  of  the  heart,  and 
though  other  titles,  perhaps  more  attractive  to  the 
mass,  might  have  been  found,  none,more  appropriate 
than  this  could  have  been  selected.  So  far,  so  well ; 


146  BELLE    BRITTAN 

but  then  again  the  book  is  called  '  A  Narrative ;'  and 
a  juster  description  could  hardly  be  given — for  it  is 
neither  a  novel,  nor  a  romance,  a  play,  a  poem,  or  a 
history.  There  is  enough  of  reality  apparent,  to  take 
it  off  the  fairy  ground  of  fiction,  enough  of  dream- 
life  to  bring  it  forth  from  the  hard  dry  real  of  history. 
It  is  a  narrative — a  narrative  which  leads  us  through 
scenes  and  circumstances  new  probably  to  most  of  us, 
but  which  yet  bear  about  them  the  garmenture  of  truth 
— a  narrative  sweetly  and  poetically  told,  which 
carries  along  with  it  the  heart  of  the  reader  as  well 
as  the  mind,  and  from  the  perusal  of  which  both 
come  refreshed  and  purified — a  narrative  with  a 
moral." 

Mr.  James  is  a  resident  of  Richmond — the  British 
Consul  of  the  port ;  and  I  was  delighted  to  renew  an 
old  acquaintance  with  this  excellent  and  most  genial 
gentleman — an  author  of  wonderful  fecundity,  and 
if  not  always  great,  always  readable,  always  respec 
table,  and  always  popular.  I  think  he  has  written 
some  one  hundred  and  sixty  works,  (not  volumes 
merely,)  and  is  now  engaged  on  the  work  of  his  life — 
a  biography  of  himself  and  his  times.  It  will  be  a  work 
of  rare  interest,  including  sketches  of  all  the  lead 
ing  litterateurs  of  the  present  century.  Mr.  James 
is  a  prodigy  of  industry,  and  yet  appears  to  be  a  gen- 


ON    A    TOUR.  147 

tleman,  not  only  of  elegant,  but  of  abundant,  lei 
sure.  He  has  realized  a  fortune  from  his  copyrights, 
and  is  enjoying  the  combined  luxuries  of  city  and 
country  life — the  latter  at  the  "  Slash  Cottage,"  the 
birthplace  of  Henry  Clay,  some  sixteen  miles  from 
Richmond,  on  the  railroad  to  "Washington.  He  has 
several  sons,  one  an  engineer  in  the  West ;  and  "  one 
fair  daughter,  whom  he  loveth  passing  well."  He 
has  written  all  his  works  through  the  medium  of  an 
amanuensis.  His  habit  has  been  to  rise  at  5  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  read  until  6,  and  then  walk  the 
room  and  dictate  till  9  o'clock.  He  reads  his  com 
position  for  the  first  time  in  the  printer's  proof. 

The  editors  of  the  Richmond  journals  are  high- 
toned  gentlemen,  at  least  the  three  or  four  whose  ac 
quaintance  I  made.  William  Foushee  Ritchie,  a 
son  of  the  venerable  "Father  Ritchie,"  of  the  press, 
the  editor  of  the  Enquirer^  is  a  rare  compound  of 
ability  and  amiability ;  eminently  worthy  to  conduct 
the  leading  Democratic  journal  of  the  Union,  and, 
what  is  better,  a  worthy  companion  of  his  accom 
plished  wife.  If  the  President  of  the  United  States 
desires  to  show  his  high  appreciation  of  journalists, 
as  it  has  been  said  he  does,  let  him  do  his  adminis 
tration  and  the  country  honor  by  appointing  the  edi 
tor  of  the  Enquirer  to  some  high  diplomatic  position. 


148  BELLE    BRITTAN 

There  are  few  persons  in  the  Republic  better  quali 
fied  to  grace  a  foreign  court  than  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ritchie. 

Mr.  Ridgway,  of  the  Whig,  is  an  exceedingly 
quiet,  agreeable  gentleman,  and  one  would  hardly 
take  him  for  the  man  who  recently  proposed  the  des 
perate  alternative  to  young  Wise.  John  R.  Thomp 
son,  the  well-known  editor  of  the  Southern  Literary 
Messenger,  is  a  gentleman,  a  scholar,  and  a  poet. 
Both  Thompson  and  Ridgway  are  young,  good-look 
ing,  and  unmarried.  But  pray,  dear  Pic,  don't  think 
that  such  considerations  have  anything  to  do  with 
my  esteem  for  these  gentlemen.  I  assure  you  I  am 

not ,  but  that  would  be  a  confession.     I  will 

say,  however,  that  I  like  married  men  as  well  as 
single  men  ;  and  sometimes  a  good  deal  better.  They 
know  more. 

Having  struck  a  personal  vein,  I  shall  take  the 
liberty  of  mentioning  that,  at  a  delightful  dinner 
party  at  Mr.  James's,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting, 
among  other  notabilities,  the  present  proprietor  of 
Mount  Vernon,  Mr.  Washington,  a  very  fine- 
looking  and  young-looking  man  to  be  the  father 
of  five  daughters  and  a  son.  He  is  by  no 
means  the  sort  of  man  some  newspapers  have 
represented  him ;  and  I  have  the  assurance  of 


ON    A    TOUR.  149 

the  "  Southern  Matron"  that  in  all  her  negotiations 
for  the  purchase  of  a  portion  of  his  estate,  (some  two 
hundred  of  his  twelve  hundred  acres,)  Mr.  Washing 
ton  has  always  acted  honorably,  nobly,  and  gener 
ously.  But  the  increasing  multitude  of  pilgrims 
have  made  his  home  anything  but  sacred  to  himself 
and  his  family  ;  and  the  parting  with  the  consecra 
ted  portion  has  become  an  absolute  necessity. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  spots  in  Richmond, 
and  which  all  intelligent  strangers  desire  to  visit,  is 
the  little  old  church  in  which  Patrick  Henry  made 
his  great  speech  for  "  Liberty  or  Death,"  and  the 
ancient  grave  yard  in  which  it  stands.  It  is  situa 
ted  on  one  of  the  highest  hills  of  the  town,  and  com 
mands  the  view  which  gave  the  name  to  the  city — 
so  like  it  is  to  its  namesake  in  the  old  country.  The 
society  of  Richmond  is  as  charming  as  its  scenery. 
The  ladies  are  healthy,  handsome,  cultivated,  and 
refined  :  one,  in  particular,  with  a  dark  and  dan 
gerous  pair  of  eyes,  that  fascinate  even  rival  women. 

"  From  the  glance  of  her  eye 
Shun  danger  and  fly, 
For  a  dangerous  girl  is  Kate  Kearney," 


150  BELLE    BRITTAN 


LETTER    No.   XXIV. 

WILLARD'S  HOTEL,  WASHINGTON,  > 
March  26,  1858,          > 


MY  DEAR 


LEAVING  Richmond  at  7  o'clock,  A.  M.,  we  arrived 
at  Washington  a  little  after  3  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon.  The  day  was  heavenly,  and  the  journey  de 
lightful  ;  particularly  the  steamboat  portion  of  it  on 
the  Potomac.  In  passing  Mount  Yernon,  the  bell 
tolled  the  customary  requiem  ;  and  every  eye  was 
strained  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  mansion  and  the 
tomb,  where  lived  and  where  sleeps  the  beloved 
"  Father  of  his  Country" — the  patriot,  the  soldier 
and  the  sage — 

"  The  first,  the  last,  the  best, 
The  Cincinnatus  of  the  West, 
Whom  envy  dared  not  hate." 

In  the  beautiful  language  of  Mrs.  Ritchie  : 

"  Here  the  feet  of  the  first  of  heroes  had  trod  ;  here  in  boy 
hood  he  had  sported  with  his  beloved  brother  Lawrence ;  in  these 
forests,  these  deep-wooded  glens,  he  had  hunted,  when  a  stripling, 
by  the  side  of  old  Lord  Fairfax  ;  here  he  took  his  first  lessons  in  the 
art  of  war ;  to  this  home  he  brought  his  bride  ;  by  this  old-fashione d, 
hospitable-looking  fireside,  he  sat  with  that  dear  and  faithful  wife; 
beneath  yonder  alley  of  lofty  trees  he  has  often  wandered  by  her 
side  ;  here  he  indulged  the  agricultural  tastes  in  which  he  delighted  ; 
here  resigned  his  Cincinnatus  vocation,  and  bade  adieu  to  his  cher- 


ON    A    TOUR.  151 

isheJ  home  at  the  summons  of  his  country.  Here  his  wife  received 
the  letter  which  told  her  that  he  had  been  appointed  commander-iri- 
chief  of  the  army  ;  here,  when  the  glorious  struggle  closed  at  the 
trumpet  notes  of  victory — when  the  British  had  retired — when,  with 
tears  coursing  down  his  benignant,  manly  countenance,  he  had  ut 
tered  a  touching  farewell,  bestowed  a  paternal  benediction  on  the 
American  army,  and  resigned  all  public  service — here  he  returned, 
thinking  to  resume  the  rural  pursuits  that  charmed  him,  and  to  end 
his  days  in  peace  !  Here  are  the  trees,  the  shrubbery  he  planted 
with  his  own  hands,  and  noted  in  his  diary  ;  here  are  the  columns 
of  the  portico  round  which  he  twined  the  coral  honey-suckle;  the 
ivy  he  transplanted  still  clings  to  yonder  garden  wall ;  these  vistas 
he  opened  through  yon  pine  grove,  to  command  far  off  views  !  Here 
the  valiant  Lafayette  sojourned  with  him  ;  there  hang  the  keys  of 
the  Bastile  which  he  presented  Here  flocked  the  illustrious  men  of 
all  climes,  and  were  received  with  warm,  unpretending,  almost  rus 
tic  hospitality.  Here  the  French  Houdon  modeled  his  statue,  &c., 
&c." 

I  find  the  capital  overcrowded,  and  "VVillard's  over 
flowing.  Although  the  festival  season  is  over,  there 
are  no  signs  of  the  abstemious  rigor  of  Lent. 
Brougham  and  his  burlesques  are  filling  the  theatre, 
dinner-parties  are  the  order  of  the  day,  while  the  la 
dies  are  up  to  their  eyes  in  "  fancy  fixins"  for  the 
grand  fancy  ball  to  be  given  by  Mrs.  Senator  Gwin, 
on  the  8th  proximo. 

At  a  private  dinner-party  last  evening,  given  by 
Gren.  Ward,  the  gentlemanly  and  popular  bachelor 
member  from  the  city  of  New- York,  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  meet  some  of  the  great  political  lights  of 
the  nation  in  their  "  undress  habits."  Among  them 
were  Vice-President  Breckenridge,  Senator  Ham- 


152  BELLE    BRITTAN 

mond,  of  South  Carolina,  Messrs.  Bocock,  Faulkner, 
and  Clemens,  of  Virginia,  Senator  Shields,  the  Hon. 
J.  Grlancey  Jones,  the  Hon.  James  B.  Clay,  and 
others.  The  entertainment  was  given  as  a  compli 
ment  to  the  poet  Mackay,  and  the  dinner  was  got  up 
in  Gautier's  best  style.  The  company  gathered  at  6 
and  separated  at  2  o'clock,  and  in  those  eight  bright 
hours,  what  was  done,  and  said,  and  sung,  although 
too  good  to  be  lost,  is  not  to  be  reported. 

In  the  absence  of  all  other  ladies,  the  host  insisted 
that  your  "  fair  correspondent"  should  balance  him 
at  the  end  of  the  table  (where  a  Mrs.  Ward  should 
have  sat.)  It  was  one  of  the  noctes  atnbrosiance  that 
we  read  of.  The  Vice-President,  who  is  one  of  tKe 
manliest-looking  men  in  the  nation,  and  a  most  elo 
quent  talker,  was  like  a  school-boy  just  let  out  of 
school.  What  a  relief  to  exchange  the  parliamentary 
dignity  of  the  prosy  Senate,  and  the  stale  changes 
perpetually  rung  upon  some  Kansas,  or  other  hollow 
humbug,  for  such  a  brilliant  "  session"  at  "  Gau- 
tier's,"  in  the  electric  atmosphere  of  wit  and  wine 
and  mirth  and  song,  with  Burns,  and  Moore,  and 
Byron,  and  Jerrold,  and  the  living  Mackay  to  "  enli 
ven  the  Board  !"  How  much  the  ladies  lose  in  not 
mingling  more  in  such  "  feasts  of  reason  !"  Why 
don't  they  do  as  I  do?  or,  as  they  do  in  Paris? 


ON    A    TOUR.  153 

\Vhy  should  selfish,  prudish  custom  compel  the  pet 
ticoats  to  retire  when  the  fun  begins  ?  Here  is  an 
infringement  of"  woman's  rights"  worth  complaining 
of.  Women  are  fond  of  wine,  and  wit,  and  poetry, 
and  eloquent  conversation,  and  funny  stories,  too, 
when  they  are  not  too  long,  nor  too  broad ;  and  most 
of  them  can  stand  cigar  smoke  (some  of  the  wittiest 
and  prettiest  women  I  have  ever  seen,  like  to  smoke 
themselves,  as  well  as  to  be  smoked).  "Why,  then, 
in  the  name  of  gallantry  and  decency,  should  the 
ladies  leave  the  festive  table,  when  the  gentlemen 
begin  to  crack  their  nuts  and  jokes  ?  For  one,  I  will 
neither  budge,  nor  blush  to  remain,  if  the  host  does 
look  hard  at  me,  so  long  as  I  have  the  right  sort 
of  a  companion  by  my  side.  "What  say  you,  Fanny 
Fern,  Fanny  Kemble,  and  all  the  other  fast  and  fas 
cinating  Fannies,  who  know  how  to  turn  the  tables 
upon  the  men,  and  pocket  what  belongs  to  them  ? 

Brady's  photographic  gallery,  recently  opened,  has 
become  one  of  the  most  attractive  and  fashionable 
lounging  resorts'  in  "Washington.  It  is  a  famous 
place  to  meet  all  that  is  beau  and  belle  in  the  metrop 
olis  ;  not  only  pictorially  but  personally.  Brady 
stands  at  the  very  head  of  his  art  in  America,  if  not 
in  the  world.  Industrious,  ingenious,  artistic,  ambi 
tious,  he  is  constantly  making  improvements  in  pho- 


154         BELLE  BRITTAN  ON  A  TOUR. 

tography  ;  and  his  latest  productions,  always  the 
test,  seem  to  be  absolutely  perfect.  The  portraits  of 
"  New- York  Celebrities,"  in  a  late  number  of  the  Il 
lustrated  London  News,  are  "done  to  the  life"  by 
Brady.  His  walls  are  lined  with  the  beauties  and 
celebrities  of  the  capital ;  and  persons  who  call  for 
their  portraits,  like  applicants  for  interviews  with 
the  President,  have  to  observe  "the  miller's  rule." 
Having  received  an  anonymous  letter  from  some  sen 
timental  swain,  earnestly  entreating  to  have  the 
"  counterfeit  presentment"  of  "  Belle  Brittan"  left 
where  he  could  see  it,  if  not  buy  it,  I  gave  Brady  a 
sitting,  or  rather  a  standing.  Won't  my  unknown 
friend  have  a  fit,  when  he  finds  me  "taken  off"  just 
as  I  am,  in  a  brown  traveling  dress,  dusty  hat,  plain 
hair,  high  neck,  and  long  sleeves  ? 

And  now  for  home.  But,  ah  !  what  have  we  here  ? 
as  they  say  in  the  play,  when  picking  up  something 
not  at  all  unexpected.  A  letter  from  a  New- York 
publisher,  praying  for  the  privilege  of  trotting  me 
out  in  a  book  !  "Well,  I  begin  to  feel  the  want  of  a 
new  dress,  and  will  consider  the  matter. 


BELLE  BR1TTAN  AT  NEWPORT, 


AT  NEWPORT. 


LETTER     No.    I. 

NEWPORT, 
July  15,  1856. 
MY  DEAR : 

MAY  I  have  an  occasional  corner  in  your  "  virtuous 
sheet"  to  tell  the  world  what  is  going  on  at  this 
delightful  place  ?  If  you  print  this,  I  shall  go  ahead 
and  give  you  more  of  the  same  sort.  If  I  draw 
largely  on  adjectives  and  superlatives,  you  must 
make  due  allowance  for  a  young  girl's  enthusiasm 
who  is  "just  out" — who  sees  the  sea  for  the  first 
time  ;  and  to  whom  a  "  watering  place"  and  water 
ing-place  ways  are  novelties.  Speaking  of  the  old  blue 
sea,  which  everybody  has  read  of,  reminds  me  of  a 
shockingly  severe  conundrum  proposed  to  us  yester 
day.  A  certain  New-York  editor,  with  whose  name 
I  dare  not  take  liberties,  was  sitting  in  the  carriage 

8 


158 


BELLE    BR1TTAN 


with  us,  quietly  looking  at  the  merry,  motley  group 
of  bathers,  when  he  gravely  asked,  why  a  plunge  in 
the  surf  was  like  suicide  ?  Because  it  was  a  feel  o'  de 
sea  !  I  threatened  to  report  him,  and  I  have  done  it. 
But  I  want  to  express  my  delight  at  everything 
and  everybody  here' ;  and  I  dont  know  where  to 
begin  or  stop.  There  are  not  as  many  nice  beaux  here 
as  I  expected  to  find  ;  but  they  tell  me  it  is  hardly 
time  for  them  yet.  They  say  the  "season"  will 
"  open"  about  the  middle  of  this  week,  with  the  first 
hop.  There  is  a  school  of  young  ladies  here  from 
Philadelphia,  with  an  old  French  teacher  watching 
and  patronizing  them,  driving  them  in  out  of  the 
damp,  and  sending  them  up  stairs  to  bed  at  ten 
o'clock.  Poor  little  spring  chickens,  how  I  pity  them. 
I  haven't  seen  any  of  the  horrid  Abolitionists  yet — 
(I  didn't  tell  you  that  "  I  came  from  Alabama  ;") 
but  I  heard  a  gentleman  from  St.  Louis  (a  very  pious 
man)  say,  that  they  wouldn't  let  him  eat  the  sacra 
ment  in  Boston  a  week  ago  Sunday,  because  he 
owned  slaves !  Isn't  that  awful  ?  Oh,  isn't  the  music 
of  the  Grermanians  delightful  ?  It  plays  after  dinner 
at  the  "  Ocean  House"  for  us  to  promenade  ;  and 
in  the  evening  for  dancing.  They  say  there  is  some 
trouble  about  the  music  with  the  other  hotels ;  and 
so  the  "  Bellevue  folks"  are  going  to  have  a  band  of 
their  own.  One  lady  subscribed  $50  towards  it,  and 


AT   NEWPORT,  159 

means  to  manage  things  to  suit  herself,  Oh,  my— 
there's  the  gong  for  dinner  ;  and  my  fingers  are  black 
with  ink,  my  hair  is  all  up  in  a  hurrah,  and  I  am 
undone  generally.  I'll  Write  more  next  time,  Will 
this  do  for  an  opening  ? 

Tout  a  vou6> 


LETTER    No.     II, 

July  16,  185fl. 

MY  DEAR  • : 

OH,  this  lovely  Newport !  It  is  the  heavenliest  place 
in  the  world.  The  air  is  so  soft,  and  moist,  and  cool, 
and  balmy,  that,  as  Coleridge  says,  "it  is  a  luxury 
to  be."  This  morning  I  took  my  first  bath  in  the 
sea,  and  it  made  the  blood  tingle  from  top  to  toe. 
What  a  funny  scene— --a  hundred  ladies,  more  or  less, 
in  a  costume  gayer  than  the  chorus  of  an  Italian 
opera.  To  see  the  belles  of  the  hotelsj  minus  their 
hoops  and  other  fixings— nobody  would  have  known 
them,  divested  of  their  drawing-room  conventionali 
ties,  swimming  about  in  white  trowsers  and  red 
frocks.  Speaking  of  hoops,  I  was  under  the  impres 
sion,  when  I  made  up  my  wardrobe  in  New- York, 
that  the  fashion  of  inflated  skirts  had  somewhat 
subsided,  and  governed  myself  accordingly  ;  but, 


160  BELLE    BR1TTAN 

gracious  goodness!  such  balloons  as  the  ladies  sail 
about  in  here,  I  never  saw  before.  It  is  a  positive 
fact,  that  a  lady  cannot  take  a  gentleman's  arm  for 
a  promenade,  in  consequence  of  the  monstrous  bulk 
of  her  skirticoats  ;  and  any  nearer  approach  is 
entirely  out  of  the  question.  I  must  confess,  I  don't 
like  the  fashion  in — its  excess. 

What  do  you  guess  was  the  amusement  of  the 
town  last  evening?  Why,  the  Circus — Dan  Rice's 
Circus.  Everybody  went — all  classes,  ages,  colors 
and  conditions.  There  were  as  many  as  five  thou 
sand  people  there,  all  mixed  up  with  the  most  demo 
cratic  indiscrimination — Fifth  Avenue  belles  sitting 
on  narrow  boards,  with  their  dresses  under  their 
arms,  alongside  of  Irish  chamber-maids  and  colored 
persons  of  all  sizes  and  sexes.  But  we  were  well 
paid.  The  performance  of  the  beautiful  white  horse, 
"  Excelsior,"  was  truly  wonderful.  His  master  has 
him  under  magnetic  control,  and  makes  him  do  the 
most  astonishing  things,  such  as  going  up  a  long 
flight  of  stairs  backwards,  putting  himself  in  statu 
esque  attitudes,  and  being  carried  around  the  ring  on 
a  pedestal  borne  upon  men's  shoulders.  The  intelli 
gence  of  this  splendid  creature  is  fearful.  His  eye 
has  a  human  look  in  it. 

There,  that's  all  I've  got  to  write  about  to-day. 
Oh,  no ;  I  forgot  to  mention  the  sensation  produced  by 


AT    NEWPORT.  161 

the  arrival  this  morning  of  about  thirty  trunks  be 
longing  to  a  handsome  New- York  widow — one  of  the 
trunks  being  about  the  size  of  an  Irish  shanty.  I  am 
so  glad,  as  Pa  scolded  a  little  about  the  trunk  I 
bought  to  pack  my  hoops  in ;  and  called  it  "  Noah's 
Ark."  But  after  seeing  this  huge  dry  goods  ware 
house  in  the  hall  to-day,  he  promised  to  laugh  at 
mine  no  more.  And  now  for  a  drive  on  the  beach, 
where  I  saw  yesterday  a  hundred  handsome  equip 
ages,  with  a  dozen  or  more  ladies  on  horseback,  look 
ing  as  fresh  as  Hebe,  and  as  "  fast"  as  Diana. 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER     No.  III. 

July  19,  1856. 


I  SUPPOSE  young  ladies  have  no  business  to  meddle 
with  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  about  which  they 
generally  know  nothing,  and  care  less ;  but  I  came 
of  a  political  family  ;  and  ever  since  I  left  school  last 
Fall,  have  breakfasted,  dined,  and  supped  on  politics. 
I  confess  I  am  heartily  tired  of  hearing  about  Brooks 
and  Sumner,  Kansas  and  Slavery.  But  one  thing  I 
will  say  :  I  thought  from  what  the  Northern  papers 
said,  that  the  Hon.  Mr.  Burlingame  was  game.  When 


162  BELLE    BRITTAN 

we  were  stopping  at  the  New- York  Hotel,  a  gentle 
man  who  was  dining  with  us  (a  Boston  man)  had  a 
great  deal  to  say  of  the  "  Hon.  gentleman  from  Mas 
sachusetts,"  assuring  Pa  that  "that  cock  would 
fight." 

I  know  I  am  out  of  my  element,  and  heyond  my 
depth  ;  yet  thinking  it  might  amuse  some  of  the 
readers  of  the  Mirror  to  know  how  these  things 
strike  a  young  Southern  girl,  who  has  no  objections 
to  a  Northern  man,  provided  she  can  find  a  brave 
one,  I  have  rattled  out  my  opinion  of  this  last  Con 
gressional  fizzle ;  and  they  can  take  it  for  what  it's 
worth.  Sister  Jane  says,  the  Northern  roosters  havn't 
any  spurs. 

§  0  dear,  why  don't  the  beaux  come  !  I  expected 
to  have  found  nice  young  fellows  here,  as  plenty  as 
blackberries.  Not  so.  They  come  "like  angel's 
visits,  far  and  few  between."  (Somehow  that  quo 
tation  don't  look  right.  But  let  it  go.)  I  am  dying 
for  a  dance.  Havn't  had  the  first  whirl  yet.  All  we 
young  girls  do  after  dinner  is  to  promenade — (what  a 
funny  clatter  of  tongues  and  high-heeled  boots) — 
drive  to  Bateman's,  or  on  the  Beach ;  and  listen  to 
the  Grermanians  in  the  evening.  I  wonder  when  the 
flirtations  are  going  to  begin.  I  thought  it  was  the 
principal  amusement  of  these  watering-places.  But 


*       AT    NEWPORT.  163 

the  general  complaint  here  is,  that  "  the  fish  don't 
bite  this  season."     Among  the  whole  bevy  of  us  at' 
the  "  Ocean,"  I  don't  believe  there  has  been  the  first 
nibble  -and  a  full  moon  the  while.     "What  can  the 
matter  be  ? 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER    No.    IV. 

July  21,  1856. 


AND  so  my  dear  Mirror  has  made  the  "  Pass"  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  !  Well,  I  hope  you  will  find 
a  golden  butterfly  (Mariposa)  on  the  other  side. 
But  why  didn't  you  go  for  Fillmore  ?  He  is  a  very 
handsome  man  ;  and  Pa  says  the  whole  South  ought 
to  vote  for  him,  because  he  kept  the  hateful  Aboli 
tionists  from  stealing  our  property.  But  I've  just 
been  reading  a  sweet,  pretty  story  in  Harper  about 
Mr.  Buchanan — how  in  early  life  he  was  in  love 
with  a  beautiful  young  lady  ;  how  he  wooed  and  won 
her  affections  ;  but  her  cruel  "  parient"  said  no,  be 
cause  the  young  man  was  poor  ;  and  how  the  good- 
for-nothing  old  mother  forged  a  tale  that  the  young 
lady  was  engaged  to  another;  and  how  her  true 
lover  hired  a  fleet  steed,  and  rode  out  to  Lancaster 


164  BELLE    BRITTAN 

to  see  her ;  and  how  he  fell  oflj  the  horse  and  broke 
his  arm ;  and  how  his  ladye  love  died  the  next  day, 
clasping  a  flower  he  had  given  her  upon  her  bosom  ; 
and  how  he  made  a  vow  never  to  love  anybody  else. 
Oh !  isn't  it  romantic  ?  But  I  think  a  man  is  foolish 
to  make  such  a  vow  as  that,  especially  when  he  is 
looking  forward  to  the  "White  House.  I  believe  a 
man  may  be  constant  to  woman,  and  inconstant  to 
women.  Don't  you,  my  dear  Mirror  ?  Now,  that's 
what  makes  them  flirt  so.  Like  honey-bees,  they 
flit  from  flower  to  flower,  rifling  every  cup  of  its 
sweetness ;  and  think,  so  long  as  they  suck  the 
honey, — "  what's  the  odds  ?" 

We  are  filling  up  here  fast.  A  great  many  new 
faces  have  appeared  since  Saturday  ;  and  it  will  soon 
be  difficult  to  get  rooms  at  any  of  the  hotels.  But  it 
is  very  singular  that  all  the  beaux  are  either  little 
snips  in  their  teens,  or  superannuated  old  coxcombs. 
"Why,  there  are  boys  here  of  sixteen,  who  smoke, 
drink,  &c.,  &c.,  and  seem  to  have  all  the  airs  and 
vices  of  veterans ;  and  there  are  old  fellows  in  wigs, 
who  ape  a  frisky  freshness  that  is  positively  ludicrous. 
There  is  another  amusing  class  here  (I  don't  know 
but  I  ought  to  say,  melancholy),  I  mean  the  belles 
of  by-gone  years,  who  still  struggle  and  twist  to 
look  enchanting,  in  spite  of  "  Time's  effacing 


AT    NEWPORT. 


165 


fingers."  They  wear  their  dresses  longer  at  the  bot 
tom  and  shorter  at  the  top  than  would  be  becoming 
in  us  girls  ;  and,  in  the  flaunting  display  of  their 
autumnal  beauty,  exhibit  but  the  touching  memento 
of  their  youthful  bloom.  There  is  nothing  half  so 
sad  in  Nature  as  the  fading  charms  of  a  beautiful 
woman.  It  is  like  the  waning  of  the  moon — with 
no  succeeding  moon  to  follow.  I  do  not  wonder  that 
these  withering  belle-dames  love  to  linger  above  the 
horizon  of  their  ancient  splendors,  until  the  last  ray 
of  beauty  is  extinguished. 

You  see  that  we  girls  can  moralize  a  little  when 
we  try  ;  but  I  confess  I  don't  think  it's  my  forte  ; 
and  I'll  stop,  and  get  myself  up  for  dinner.  Oh !  I 
forgot  to  mention  that  there  is  to  be  a  grand  hop 
here  next  Thursday  night,  and  then — we  shall  see 
what  we  shall  see.  If  that  handsome  gentleman 
who  sits  next  to  Mr.  Cranston  at  the  "  New- York 
Hotel"  dinner-table  would  only  come  down  here  ac 
cording  to  his  parting  promise,  we  would  have  a 
good  time,  generally. 


166  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    V. 

July  24,  1856. 
MY  DEAR : 

I'VE  a  good  mind  not  to  write  another  line  for  the 
Mirror.  What  do  you  think  ?  One  of  the  Boston 
newspapers  calls  me  "  one  of  the  girls ;"  and  I  am 
told  that  that  means  there  is  something  Fanny  Ferny 
— something  of  the  female  man  about  me.  Now, 
it's  no  such  thing.  I  am  feminine  all  over,  from 
ringlets  to  shoe-strings  ;  and  if  that  Boston  editor 
takes  any  more  liberties  with  your  "  fair  correspon 
dent,"  he'll  find — well,  I  won't  say  what. 

By  the  way,  I  overheard  a  funny  conversation  last 
evening,  between  a  gentleman  and  a  lady  who  were 
promenading  behind  me,  from  which  I  learned  the 
definition  of  "  a  fast  woman."  The  couple  were 
discussing  the  attractions  of  a  young  lady,  who  re 
ceives  a  good  deal  of  attention  here  from  the  beaux 
— (such  as  we  have)— when  the  gentleman  remark 
ed,  that  he  had  not  yet  been  abl^  to  discover  the 
charms  of  the  fair  one  in  question.  "  Oh,"  said  the 
lady,  "  she  is  fast,  and  that's  what  makes  all  the 
gentlemen  like  her."  "  But  what  does  that  mean  ?" 
inquired  the  gentleman,  a  little  roguishly.  "  Why," 
said  the  lady,  "a  fast  woman  is  one  that  you  can 
say  anything  to."  I  thought  I  should  have  dropped. 


AT   NEWPORT.  167 

There  have  been  a  great  many  arrivals  to-day. 
At  the  "  Ocean,"  about  fifty.  Everybody  is  expect 
ing  a  brilliant  hop  at  the  "  Atlantic"  this  evening — 
the  first  of  the  season.  Both  bands  of  music  will  be 
there ;  and  I  am  expecting  to  see  all  that  is  belle  in 
Newport.  Tickets  for  the  entire  season,  admitting  a 
gentleman  and  ladies,  are  ten  dollars ;  and  I  believe 
there  are  to  be  two  a  week  until  the  first  of  Septem- 
tember.  The  single  tickets  are  one  dollar  and  a  half 
each,  and  I  hear  a  good  many  have  been  sold  to-day. 
But  really  the  great  amusement  of  the  place  is  driv 
ing.  Last  evening  there  were  over  one  hundred  fine 
carriages  on  the  beach,  at  once,  and  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  ladies  on  horseback.  The  tide  was  low  ;  the 
sky  clear  ;  the  breeze  delicious,  and  the  scene  gay 
and  exciting.  Scores  of  bright  eyes  and  lovely  faces 
went  flashing  by  us  ;  but  before  I  had  time  to  ask 
who  they  belonged  to  they  were  gone.  The  most 
remarkable  "  sight"  I  saw  was  the  "  History  of  the 
United  States,"  in  white  linen,  on  horseback. 
Surely  the  early  part  of  Mr.  Bancroft's  equestrian 
education  must  have  been  sadly  neglected,  for  he 
rides  as  if  he  were  running  a  race  with  his  horse, 
and  the  rider  is  generally  a  little  ahead. 

Sight  No.  2,  was  a  lady  bathing  in  red  flannel, 
who  swam  like  a  swan.  She  threw  herself  upon  the 
water,  as  though  it  were  her  native  element ;  and, 


168  BELLE    BRITTAN 

with  her  long  black  hair  floating  upon  the  waves, 
and  her  little  white  feet  flashing  upon  the  surface, 
looked  as  graceful  as  a  ISaiad.  (If  I  remember 
right,  the  Naiads  used  to  go  in  swimming  in  Greece, 
and^the  Dry  ads  used  to  bring  them  towels.)  I  don't 
know  who  the  lady  was  ;  for,  I  can  assure  you,  it 
is  no  easy  matter  to  identify  an  unhooped  woman 
in  the  water,  however  well  acquainted  one  may  be 
with  her  in  full  drawing-room  rig.  Fringes  and 
flounces  !  What  a  contrast  between  that  feminine 
"  biped  without  feathers"  that  I  saw  dancing  a  hop 
waltz  in  the  water,  yesterday  morning,  and  the 
magnificent  creature  in  full  blown  muslin  and  milli 
nery,  that  sailed  into  the  din  ing-saloon  a  few  hours 
after !  Did  you  ever  see  a  ship  "  scudding  under 
bare  poles,"  then  suddenly  clouded  with  canvas,  and 
gracefully  gliding  over  the  ocean  with  an  easy,  bil 
lowy  motion  ?  Did  you  ever  see  a  magnificent  bal 
loon  before  and  after  inflation  ?  Well,  these  figures 
are  suggestive  ;  and,  perhaps  of  nothing  more  perti 
nently,  than  of  your  "  own  correspondent,"  as  she 
now  sits  scribbling  en  dishabille,  and  as  she  means 
to  bloom  out  in  the  ball-room  of  the  "  Atlantic"  this 
evening.  If  there  is  any  fun  going  on,  the  Mirror 
shall  reflect  it. 

P.  S.— I've  just  had  an  "  offer." 


MY  DEAR 


AT     NEWPORT.  169 

LETTER    No.    VI. 

July  25,  1856. 


WELL,  I  went  to  the  "  first  Hop  of  the  season,"  last 
evening — and  didn't  dance  once  !  The  affair  seemed 
to  be  managed  by  a  few  aristocratic  New-Yorkers, 
who  "had  the  floor,"  as  they  say  in  Congress  ;  and 
the  quadrille  is  too  democratic  an  institution  to  be 
tolerated  by  these  dainty  "  leaders  of  the  ton."  As 
Pa  insists  that  waltzing  is  a  dangerous  and  unhealthy 
pastime  for  young  girls,  all  I  could  do  was  to  sit 
among  the  wall-flowers,  and  witness  the  "  perform 
ances,"  which  were  confined  to  about  half  a  dozen 
couples.  If  that  isn't  an  exclusive  entertainment,  I 
don't  know  what  is.  But  those  New-York  fellows 
waltz  well,  I  must  confess.  I  suppose  they  have 
nothing  else  to  do. 

Speaking  of  exciusiveness,  it  is  very  amusing  to 
see  the  airs  that  some  people  take  on  here.  I  cannot 
understand  upon  what  ground  they  base  their  claims 
to  nobility.  Is  it  beauty,  brains,  money,  morals,  or 
blood  ?  The  prettiest  woman,  the  most  intellectual 
man,  is  not  always  the  most  "  fashionable."  This 
thing  puzzles  me  ;  but  I  rather  guess  MONEY,  liber- 


170  BELLE    BRITTAN 

ally  and  tastefully  exhibited,  is,  after  all,  better  than 
beauty  or  blood — better  than  education  or  religion. 
Everybody  covets  it,  courts  it,  worships  it,  and 
wants  to  marry  it.  But  Pa  says  those  who  have  the 

• 

largest  amount  of  wealth  make  the  least  display  of 
it ;  just  as  a  man  of  real  learning  avoids  long  words 
in  conversation. 

We  had  a  little  bit  of  excitement  here  yesterday, 
occasioned  by  a  steam-organ  on  board  of  a  boat  in 
the  harbor.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  forenoon  was 
filled  with  hurdy-gurdies.  It  played  Yankee  Doodle 
with  terrific  variations,  and  spluttered  waltzes  all 
over  the  sea  and  shore.  But  a  gentleman  who  went 
to  see  it,  says  it  is  nothing  very  wonderful  after  all. 
It  has  keys,  and  is  played  upon  like  any  other  organ, 
only  steam  is  used  instead  of  wind.  Every  time  a 
key  is  touched  and  a  note  produced,  a  certain  amount 
of  steam  is  let  off,  which  is  very  exhausting  to  the 
engine.  It  will  probably  take  the  place  of  a  band  of 
music,  when  steamboats  go  out  on  dancing  excur 
sions ;  and  perhaps  it  will  be  introduced  as  a  "mo 
tive  power"  into  churches,  to  play  the  organ.  Surely, 
if  tKe  "  progressive  spirit  of  the  age"  can  find  out  a 
labor-saving  way  of  worshipping  (rod  by  steam,  it 
will  be  speedily  patented  and  adopted.  What  a  pity 
we  can't  have  a  railroad  to  Paradise  ! 


AT    NEWPORT.  171 

The  arrivals  at  the  "  Ocean"  to-day,  which  is  the 
hotel,  are  numerous ;  and  hall,  dining-room,  and 
drawing-room,  are  beginning  to  look  crowded. 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER    No.     VII. 

July  29,  1856. 


WE  have  two  topics  of  conversation  here — the 
weather  and  Buiiingame.  The  latter  is  voted  a 
trump.  His  "  card"  is  satisfactory,  even  to  us 
Southerners.  I  think  Brooks  was  more  afraid  of  the 
"  rifle"  than  of  a  trip  through  the  "  enemy's  country." 
But  I  have  had  occasion  to  modify  my  opinion  of 
Northern  rnen  who  refuse  to  fight  since  I  came  here. 
I  am  told  that  if  a  Massachusetts  member  of  Con 
gress  accepts  a  challenge  he  kills  himself  politically  ; 
whereas  the  Southern  man  who  fights  becomes  a  hero, 
and  can  have  almost  any  office  in  the  gift  of  his 
State.  In  the  one  case,  ambition  prevents  a  man 
from  fighting — in  the  other  it  drives  him  to  the  field. 
This  makes  a  mighty  difference. 

In  regard  to  the  weather,  we  have  not  had  the 
thermometer  above  85  at  the  "  Ocean,"  the  coolest 
house  in  Newport ;  but  our  sympathies  are  severely 


172  BELLE    BRITTAN 

tasked  for  friends  at  home.  And  when  we  learn  from 
the  newspapers  that  about  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
children  died  last  week  in  the  three  cities  of  New- 
York,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston,  our  hearts  bleed  for 
the  poor,  mourning  Rachels,  who  have  been  thus  be 
reft  of  their  little  ones.  Here  the  children  revel  in 
pure  air,  and  look  as  ruddy  as  little  Hebes. 

There  was  a  "hop"  last  night  at  the  "Ocean," 
largely  attended — but  the  evening  was  too  warm  for 
excessive  dancing.  On  Thursday  evening,  "Hop  No. 
3"  comes  off  at  the  "  Fillmore  ;"  and,  on  the  same 
evening,  Signor  Amodio  announces  a  concert,  assisted 
by  Brignoli  and  Miss  Anna  Tail.  The  little  folks 
are  on  the  qui  vive  to  see  the  "  learned  monkeys," 
which  are  to  be  exhibited  to-morrow  evening.  I 
have  read  in  the  Herald  that  this  troupe  drove  the 
Italian  Opera  from  one  of  your  Opera  Houses,  and 
caused  it  to  be  converted  into  a  library. 
*#***#* 

Besides  a  great  many  transient  cottagers  from 
Boston,  Baltimore,  and  other  cities,  there  are  many 
persons  who  have  splendid  country  seats  here,  who 
give  entertainments,  have  regular  "  reception  days," 
and,  by  a  liberal  hospitality,  contribute  largely  to  the 
pleasure  of  visitors.  Among  those  who  live  in 


AT    NEWPORT.  173 

princely  style,  are  Messrs.  Phalen,  Wolfe,  Wetmore, 
Bancroft,  and  others  from  your  city. 

But  the  great  event  of  the  day — dinner — is  ap 
proaching  ;  and  as  the  ladies  persist  in  arraying" 
themselves  in  all  their  loveliness  for  the  ceremony,  it 
is  time  for  me  to  prepare  for  the  event.  We  have  to 
dress  about  nine  times  a  day  here.  First,  we  put  on 
a  dress  to  dress  in.  Then  we  are  ready  for  break 
fast.  After  that  we  dress  for  the  Beach — then  for 
the  bath — then  for  dinner — then  for  the  drive — then 
for  the  ball — and  then  for  the  bed.  If  that  isn't 
being  put  through  a  regular  course  of  dimity  and 
diamonds,  then  I  am  no  judge  of  such  performances. 


LETTEK     No.  VI  LI. 

July  31,  1856. 
MY  DEAR : 

.  FRIGHTENED  BY  A  PETTICOAT. — The  Boston  Journal  shows  the 
white  feather  to  Belle  Brittan  of  the  New-York  Mirror,  because  she 
threatens  him  with  indefinite  punishment.  Where  is  your  pluck, 
man  1  Stand  your  ground,  accept  the  threat,  and  tell  Belle  you  will 
meet  her  in  Halifax,  or  some 'equally  as  convenient  spot.  She  won't 
follow  you — people  fond  of  chivalry  and  "  deeds  of  honor"  never  go 
far  to  meet  danger.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  getting  these  north 
ern  fellows  to  a  sticking  point.  Hear  how  the  Journal  pleads  for 
mercy  and  approving  smiles  : 

"  Of  course  we  can  do  nothing  less  than  explain.     My  dear  Belle 
Brittan,  our  remark  was  not  intended  to  be  personal.     We  discrimi- 


174  BELLE    BRITTAN 

nate  between  the  woman  and  the  writer.  It  is  the  writer  that  we 
luded  to  as  one  of  the  girls.  The  woman  is  an  angel  in  hoops,  gay, 
witty,  piquant,  and  lovable.  Accept  this  assurance  of  our  most 
£istinguished  consideration." 

If  Belle  has  any  of  the  true  woman  in  her,  she  ought  to  horse 
whip  the  Journal  man  for  his  cowardice — but  she  won't.  She  will 
accept  the  explanation,  and  publish  a  "  card"  to  that  effect,  and 
plead  as  an  excuse  the  danger  of  traveling  unprotected,  risk  of  mo 
lestation,  &c.,  &c.  There  will  be  no  blood  shed  by  either  Brooks 
vs.  Burlingame,  or  the  Boston  Journal  vs.  Belle  Brittan.  But  there 
is  one  thing  certain,  she  will  have  the  last  word. 

A  gentleman  with  a  knowing  look  has  just  put 
the  above  in  my  hand,  marked  "  Boston  Bee."  So 
I  suppose  I  am  suspected.  I  think  there  is  more 
sting  than  honey  in  the  paragraph ;  but  Pa  says  the 
satire  is  aimed  at  the  "  Southern  Chivalry"  quite  as 
much  as  at  me.  According  to  my  notions  of  honor, 
the  "  Boston  Journal"  did  the  handsome  thing;  and 
I  was  disposed  to  be  satisfied  and  let  the  matter  rest. 
But  I  shall  submit  the  matter  to  the  "hands  of 
my  friends,"  and  diligently  practice  the  use  of  my 
"  woman's  weapon." 

By  the  way,  why  shouldn't  ladies  as  well  as  gen 
tlemen  hold  themselves  accountable  to  the  code  of 
honor  ?  It  might  be  considered  verging  a  little  upon 
the  "  strong-minded"  order ;  but  I  think  the  con 
verse  of  the  old  maxim  is  true,  and  what  is  sauce 
for  the  gander  is  also  sauce  for  the  goose;  and  if 
there  is  anything  more  saucy  and  insulting  than  a 


AT    NKWPORT.  175 

• 

jealous  or  envious  woman,  I  have  yet  to  learn  a  new 
vocabulary  of  slander.  I  saw  two  women  kissing  each 
other  yesterday  most  voraciously  ;  and  half  an  hour 
afterwards,  one  of  them  was  insinuating  to  a  circle 
of  eager  listeners,  that  her  friend  was  indiscrimi 
nately  fond  of  gentlemen  ;  and  intimating,  by  various 
nods,  winks,  and  shrugs,  that  she  was  "no  better 
than  she  should  be."  In  other  words,  that,  like  a 
legitimate  daughter  of  Eve,  she  had  an  instinctive 
love  of  "  forbidden  fruit."  Now  this  is  scandalous; 
quite  as  much  so  as  the  "  doings  in  Congress  ;"  and 
why  shouldn't  injured  honor  in  petticoats  have  the 
same  redress  accorded  by  the  "  code"  to  pantaloons  ! 
I  respectfully  submit  the  question  to  Fanny  Fern. 
Mrs.  Prewitt,  Mrs.  Swizzle'm,  et  id  omne  genus. 

Oh,  glory  to  Goodness,  it  is  beginning  to  rain  ;  and 
as  Mrs.  Partington  says  (who  never  opens  her  mouth 
without  "  putting  her  foot  in  it"),  "  the  Lord  raineth, 
let  the  earth  rejoice." 


176  BELLE    BRITTAN 


LETTE-R    No.    IX. 

August  2,  1856. 


MY  DEAR  : 

WELL,  I  went  to  the  "  Hop"  at  the  "  Fillmore," 
and  achieved  a  belle's  ambition — "  dancing  every 
time,"  but  with  the  same  partner,  Pa  having  con 
sented  to  my  waltzing  with  cousin  Charles.  You 
know  the  most  fastidious  of  fathers  always  consent 
to  the  cousinly  intirrfacies  involved  in  these  fashion 
able  dances.  Do  you  know  it  is  the  custom  here 
for  a  lady  to  take  a  dancing  gentleman  with  her  to 
the  hop,  on  whom  she  leans  and  relies  as  her  part 
ner  for  the  evening  ?  There  is  very  little  promis 
cuous  dancing  here;  and  the  only  way  to  "keep 
the  floor"  is  to  have  a  partner  constantly  on  hand. 

Everybody  voted  the  Fillmore  hop  a  perfect  suc 
cess.  It  was  the  best  attended  ;  and  the  ladies 
looked  their  prettiest.  The  room  (the  dining  saloon) 
was  brilliantly  lighted ;  and  there  was  a  rich  dis 
play  of  fringes  and  flounces,  of  necks  and  necklaces. 
A  very  superb-looking  lady  from  New-Orleans  wore 
a  bouquet  of  diamonds,  pearls,  and  precious  stones, 
which,  "they  say,"  cost  $20,000!  It  made  all 
lesser  trinkets  "  pale  their  ineffectual  fires."  It  is 
no  use  trying  to  eclipse  everything.  Be  as  brilliant 


AT   NEWPORT.  177 

Ptnd  extravagant  as  you  will,  some  provoking 
Madame  Allcash  will  be  sure  to  outshine  and  out- 
dash  you.  This  dressing  for  show  is  a  rather  costly 
and  unsatisfactory  business.  "What  a  pity  it  cannot 
be  dispensed  with  altogether  !  I  should  like  to  live 
in  a  planet  where  costume  would  grow  upon  us; 
where  we  could  leaf  out  and  bloom  out,  like  vines 
and  lilies ;  and  where  children  could  be  gathered 
from  the  trees  like  peaches.  Who  knows  but  we 
shall  be  "  put  through  a  course  of  sprouts,"  similar 
to  this  in  some  of  the  worlds  to  come  ! 

Oh,  how  I  wish  I  could  picture  with  the  pen  of  a 
poet  and  the  feeling  of  a  man,  a  beauty  whom  / 
regard  as  "  the  belle  of  Newport !"  I  could  gaze 
upon  her  sweet  face  forever,  just  as  I  could  listen  to 
strains  of  entrancing  music,  or  inhale  the  perfume 
of  new-mown  hay.  "What  a  figure,  what  a  face, 
what  a  smile  ;  and  with  what  a  musical  motion  she 
undulates  through  the  wavy  waltz  !  The  palm  trees 
have  lent  her  grace ;  and  all  that's  fair,  and  bright, 
and  sweet  in  nature,  "  meet  in  her  aspect  and  her 
eyes."  It  makes  me  sad,  as  I  contemplate  this  car 
nation  hymn  to  the  Divinity,  to  think  that  a  vision 
so  lovely  must  also  fade  and  vanish.  I'm  getting 
sentimental,  so  I'll  change  the  subject  from  belles  to 
blue  fish.  Now,  I  am  going  to  tantalize  the  diS- 


178  BELLE    BRiTTAlf 

ciples  of  "  Old  Isaac,"  by  giving  a  brief  account  of 
the  sport  we  had  in  fishing  yesterday  ;  and  let  me 
say  in  advance,  that  every  word  of  my  "  fish  story" 
is  true.  Accepting  an  invitation  from  Mr.  Henry 
Ludlam,  a  fine  specimen  of  a  true  Virginia  gentle 
man  whom  I  met  at  the  hop,  we  started  yesterday 
about  12  o'clock  for  the  "  Fishing  Grounds." 

The  party  consisted  of  four  gentlemen,  and  no 
more  ladies  than  that  number  of  gentlemen  usually 
desire  to  have  with  them  on  such  an  excursion.  I 
am  not  going  to  tell  where  we  went — only  that  we 
fished  sitting,  or  standing,  on  terra  Jirma,  and 
caught  as  many  twelve  pounders  as  we  cared  to 
take  home  in  two  wagons ;  and  blue  fish  at  that, 
the  strongest  and  gamiest  fish  that  swims.  I  now 
perfectly  understand  the  force  of  the  common  ex 
pression,  as  "  wide  awake  as  a  blue  fish."  My  arms 
are  positively  lame  from  pulling  them  in.  Mr. 
Ludlam,  who  is  the  most  expert  and  artistic  fisher 
man  in  Newport,  taught  me  how  to  put  on  the  bait, 
and  then  all  that  was  wanting  was  skill  to  throw 
the  line,  and  strength  to  pull  in  the  beautiful  fin, 
nies,  looking  so  sweet  in  their  white  vests  and  blue 
coats,  with  distended  gills  that  looked  like  red 
ruffles.  Oh,  it  was  "  fun  alive  !" 

'In  the  evening,  after  returning,  Mr.  Ludlam  gave 


AT    NEWPORT.  179 

us  a  splendid  fish  supper,  when  I  learned  a  new 
sensation — the  exquisite  pleasure  of  eating  the  game 
of  one's  own  catching.  To-day,  the  breakfast  and 
dinrier  tables  of  the  "  Ocean  House"  have  abounded 
in  unwonted  piscatory  luxuries — the  fruit  of  our 
yesterday's  doings.  I  no  longer  marvel  at  the  ang 
ling  mania,  having  been  fairly  bitten  with  it  in  the 
glorious  success  of  yesterday.  I  don't  know  but  I 
should  like  to  enlist  for  a  three  months'  fishing  voy 
age  for  mackerel,  cod,  or  even  for  whale,  as  I  am 
inclined  to  think  the  larger  the  game  the  greater 
the  sport. 

P.  S.  Ladies  who  go  fishing  should  leave  their 
hoops  at  home,  as  sitting  in  them  on  the  rocks  is  aa 
hard  as  sitting  on  a  gridiron. 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER      No.X. 

August  9,  1856. 


YESTERDAY  was  the  first  rainy  day  we  have  had 
in  a  month.  The  gracious  benediction  began  to 
come  down  a  little  in  the  afternoon,  and  fell  copious 
ly  at  intervals,  "  commending  itself  unto  our  gentle 
senses"  until  the  "  fairy  form"  of  your  "  fair  corres- 


180  BELLE    BRITTAN 

pendent"  was  in  "  sleep's  serene  oblivion  laid."  Of 
course,  we  did  not  have  our  post-prandial  drive — 
"our  custom  almost  always  of  the  afternoon;"  so 
the  gentlemen  talked  politics,  and  the  ladies  talked 
other  things  through  the  rainy  remainder  of  the  day. 
Suppose  I  relate  a  few  remarks  that  I  heard  and 
overheard,  with  a  sprinkling  of  "  moral  reflections." 
And  first,  the  election  news  from  Missouri  and  Ken 
tucky  seemed  to  badly  bother  the  calculations  of  the 
politicians.  Pa  says  he  don't  know  what  the  Mis- 
sourians  mean  in  voting  for  Republican  candidates 
for  Congress.  To  which  a  distinguished  gentleman 
from  Baltimore,  who  is  a  very  "  learned  Theban," 
(and,  I  believe,  the  successor  of  Henry  Clay,  as 
President  of  the  "  Colonization  Society"),  says  that 
the  white  wave  is  destined  to  roll  over  the  black ; 
and,  in  the  process  of  time,  to  efface  all  vestiges  of 
Africanism  from  America.  He  says  the  growing 
attractions  of  their  original  home  in  Liberia,  with 
the  increasing  repulsions  which  they  experience  in 
the  land  of  their  exile,  will  gradually  carry  them  off; 
while  the  growing  demand  for  labor  at  the  South 
will  cause  the  cotton  and  cane  fields  to  swarm  with 
the  Dutch  and  Irish,  who  are  rapidly  supplanting  the 
blacks  upon  the  wharves  and  plantations  from  Mary 
land  to  Louisiana. 


AT    NEWPORT.  181 

I  was  glad  to  hear  him  say,  that,  but  for  the  out 
rages  of  the  abolitionists,  Delaware,  Maryland,  Vir 
ginia,  and  Kentucky  would  have  been  free  States 
before  now,  for  I  hate  an  abolitionist  with  a  chronic 
hatred.  It  may  be  wrong,  but  I  can't  help  it.  They 
seem  t<3  me  like  such  a  mean,  sneaking,  cowardly, 
contemptible  set,  who  stay  at  home,  where  they  are 
perfectly  safe,  and  try  to  incite  our  negroes  to  cut 
our  throats  and  run  away.  It  is  in  consequence  of  the 
conduct  of  these  THIEVES,  that  comparatively  so  few  of 
our  people  are  found  at  the  Northern  watering-places 
this  year.  Our  colored  nurses  and  maids,  and  boys 
and  coachmen,  who  have  taken  care  of  us  and  waited 
upon  us  from  infancy,  are  indispensable  to  our  com 
forts  abroad,  as  well  as  at  home  j  for  I  cannot  bear 
to  be  washed  and  dressed  and  waited  upon  by  white 
folks.  It  doesn't  seem  natural  or  right.  But  we 
dare  not  bring  our  best  servants  with  us,  because, 
however  much  they  may  be  attached  to  us  person 
ally,  yet  these  lying  abolitionists  paint  Free  Nigger- 
ism  in  such  false,  yet  alluring  colors,  that  the 
strongest-minded  of  our  inexperienced  slaves  become 
discontented,  even  if  they  do  not  leave  us.  But 
this  is  a  digression. 

***** 

There  !  I  think  I  have  "  talked  politics  enough  for 
9 


182  BELLE    BRITTAN 

one  day.  Now  let  us  listen  to  the  ladies  a  moment. 
Ribbons  and  laces — what  precious  chatterboxes  they 
are  !  They  cannot  open  their  mouths  but  out  there 
flies  something  piquant  and  spicy  ;  such  as  :  "  Oh, 
have  you  heard  of  the  engagement  between  Mr. 
and  Miss ,  who  are  promenading  so  perti 
naciously,  and  with  such  a  life-insurance  policy  of 
happiness  written  on  their  shining  faces  ?  The  lady 
is  worth  $30,000,  and  if  she  ever  marries  him,  "the 
gray  mare  will  be  the  better  horse.  Paired,  not 
matched." 

"  There  comes  Mr. ,  a  widower,  with  six 

millions  of  dollars,  walking  with  the  handsome 
widow  from  New- York.  Wonder  how  many  chil 
dren  he  has.  Eight  is  too  large  a  number  to  begin 
with." 

"  Oh,  did  you  know  that  Mr. ,  who  lives  in  a 

Fifth  Avenue  Palace,  has  had  to  put  a  mortgage  on 
his  house  for  fifty  thousand  dollars?"  "  And  do  you 
know,  that  some  folks  think  that  that  child's  '  Pa'  is 
not  its  father  ?" 

This  is  a  specimen  of  the  feminine  gossip  of  a  rainy 
day  at  a  watering-place ;  and  if  I  hadn't  moved  my 
seat  just  then,  I  might  possibly  have  heard  more 
than  I  could  have  written.  Verily  a  new  command- 


AT    NEWPORT,  183 

ment   should   be    added  to  the  decalogue  ;    and  it 
should  read — Thou  shalt  not  talk  scandal. 

In  the  evening  there  was  an  abortive  attempt  to 
give  a  concert  by  Messrs.  "Wels  &  Guidi,  assisted  by 
Madame  Stephani,  and  Aptornmas  the  Harpist.  The 
latter  played  splendidly;  but  the  proceeds,  I  fear, 
did  not  pay  the  gas  light.  The  rain  put  a  damper 
on  the  entertainment ;  and  it  requires  a  very  strong 
outside  attraction,  in  the  way  of  music,  to  take  us 
from  the  Grermania  Band,  which  gives  us  free  prome 
nade  concerts  every  afternoon  and  evening  at  the 
"  Ocean."  Besides,  it  is  a  great  bore  to  sit  still  two 
hours  in  a  concert-room,  with  the  mercury  among 
the  "  upper  tens."  But  I  was  very  sorry  to  see 
so  thin  a  house.  I  always  sympathize  with  ill 
success ;  and  the  artists  who  gave  the  concert  have 
been  very  kind  to  sing  and  play  for  us  in  the  draw 
ing-room.  They  deserved  better  patronage ;  and  I 
wish  them  "better  luck  next  time." 

P.  S. — -The  editor  of  the  Boston  Ledger  has  got  a 
wrong  impression  of  my  sitting  on  the  rocks  in  a 
hoop  skirticoat ;  but  I  haven't  room  to-day  to  set 
him  right. 


184  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    XI. 

August  1 1,  I85fl. 

MY  DEAR  •          ; 

I  MAY  now  write  with  entire  truth,  that  Newport 
is  full,  crowded,  squeezed.  Sixty-six  arrivals  at  the 
"Ocean"  yesterday;  and  the  other  hotels  received 
accessions  proportionally  to  their  capacities.  Be 
sides,  the  resident  cottagers  are  overflowing  with 
visitors.  And  yet,  it  is  not  very  gay  here.  In  sport 
ing  phrase,  we  have  very  few  "fast  people"  among 
us,  although  a  plenty  of  fast  horses.  I  do  love  a 
handsome  horse  ;  and  may  as  well  confess  the  honest 
truth,  that,  driving  with  a  pleasant,  confidential 
companion,  is  to  me  a  much  more  agreeable  amuse 
ment  than  dancing.  I  never  before  saw  so  fine  a 
collection  of  horses  as  turn  out  here  of  an  afternoon, 
There  seems  to  be  a  rivalry  among  the  coachmen  in 
getting  up  their  equine  toilettes ;  and  the  aristo 
cratic  "  Whips"  of  New- York  take  as  much  pleasure 
in  braiding  the  manes  and  combing  the  tails  of  their 
teams,  for  a  show-off  on  the  Beach,  as  we  ladies 
do  in  "  smarting"  ourselves  up  for  dinner.  The  most 
splendid  pair  of  carriage  horses  I  have  yet  seen, 
belong  to  Mr.  Parker,  of  New-Bedford.  They  are 
very  tall,  bright,  long-tailed  bays ;  and  with  their 


AT    NEWPORT. 


185 


heads  and  necks  done  up  in  red  ribbons  (Mr.  Parker's 
coachman  is  an  artist  in  his  line),  they  look  and 
step  as  proudly  as  if  they  had  a  Duchess  behind 
them.  If  I  were  in  the  habit  of  paying  compliments, 
I  would  say  that,  when  their  owner  drives,  they 
have  "  a  prince  of  a  fellow"  holding  the  ribbons. 
But  the  fastest  team  in  the  place  is  owned  by  Mr. 
Fassitt,  of  Philadelphia — a  pair  of  slender  bays,  all 
limb  and  muscle.  Mr.  F.  is  willing  to  trot  them 
for  a  high  figure,  against  any  double  team  in  the 
world.  One  of  the  most  gentlemanly  turn-outs  here 
belongs  to  Mr.  Patricius  Hearne,  of  your  city.  It  is 
perfect  in  all  its  appointments.  But  I  am  running 
off  on  horses,  and  must  hold  up. 

"We  had  a  musical  treat  in  the  drawing-room  of 
the  "  Ocean"  on  Saturday  evening,  in  the  singing  of 
Miss  Secor,  of  the  Fifth  Avenue,  New-York.  She  is 
a  very  young,  fresh,  sonsie-looking  lady,  with  a  voice 
remarkable  for  its  compass,  strength,  sweetness,  and 
accuracy.  She  was  accompanied  on  the  piano  by 
her  teacher,  Professor  Albites,  and  warmly  applauded 
by  a  room  full  of  listeners.  I  heard  a  gentleman 
remark,  who  claims  to  be  a  critic,  that  she  was  the 
best  singer  he  had  ever  heard  off  the  stage  ;  and  that 
if  she  were  only  a  poor  girl  she  might  make  her 
fortune  by  concert  singing.  I  believe  there  is  to  be 


186  BELLE    BRITTAN 

an  "  Amateur  Concert,"  given  by  Mr.  Albites,  when 
we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  hearing  Miss  Secor's 
sweet  voice  again ;  and  also  that  of  Madame  La 

Comptesse !  Won't  that  be  something  to  tell 

of  when  we  go  home  ? 

For  Madame  La  Grange's  Concert  to  be  given  to 
morrow  evening,  nearly  all  the  tickets  are  already 
sold  (600),  «at  $1  50  each.  So  she  will  make  a 
handsome  thing  of  it.  This  is  to  be  decidedly  a 
musical  week.  Mrs.  Bostwick  announces  a  Concert 
for  Friday,  and  on  the  19th  the  Grermanians  give 
their  grand  Promenade  Concert,  which  will  bring 
together  as  much  of  the  beauty  and  fashion  of  New- 
York,  as  can  jam  into  the  large  saloon  of  the  Ocean 
House. 

I  am  sorry  I  could  not  go  to  New-Bedford  to  see 
the  yacht  race,  as  you  requested.  I  can  assure  you 
it  was  from  no  lack  of  inclination,  or  invitations 
from  the  "  Captains"  of  the  yachts,  and  the  citizens 
of  New- Bedford.  But  previous 'engagements  pre 
vented.  I  am  told  the  race  was  a  one-sided  affair, 
the  "  Julia"  having  it  all  her  own  way.  The  bets 
were  two  to  one  on  the  winner  ;  but  nobody  dare 
offer  such  odds  on  the  Presidential  race.  Having 
come  to  a  period,  I'll  make  "  a  full  stop." 

P.  S. — Nothing  to  add  in  the  shape  of  a  postscript 
to-day. 


AT    NEWPORT.  187 

LETTER    No.    XII. 

August  12,  1856. 


MY  DEAR 


I  OVERHEARD  the  remark  yesterday,  that  it  "  was 
scandalous  in  Belle  Brittan  to  publish  such  gossip  as 
was  reported  in  one  of  her  recent  letters."  So  it 
was  ;  and  my  only  object  in  so  doing  was  to  show 
scandal-mongers  how  bad  they  look  in  print — 

"  — —  To  hold,  as  'twere, 
The  Mirror  up  to  nature." 

"  Let  the  galled  jade  wince,"  and  hereafter,  instead 
of  throwing  stones  at  other  people's  glass  windows, 
look  and  see  if  there  are  no  brittle  or  broken  panes 
in  their  own  rickety  houses.  I  always  turn  a  deaf 
ear  to  an  uncharitable  tongue.  It  is  unwomanly, 
unchristianly,  unlovely.  And  I  never  would  become 
involved  in  quarrels  and  controversies  in  which  I 
have  no  concern.  There  are  certain  ladies  here  at 
the  "  Ocean  House,"  who  have  been  bosom  friends, 
and  now  "  don't  speak  ;"  and  they  seem  to  think 
that  everybody  must  feel  towards  their  enemies  just 
as  they  do.  How  absurd  !  But  worse  than  all  this, 
is  the  kissing  and  backbiting  of  these  smiling  hypo 
crites,  who  sheathe  their  daggers  in  rose  leaves,  only 
the  more  fatally  to  stab  their  victims. 


188  BELLE    BRITTAN 

I  have  not  been  "  a  young  lady"  long  ;  but  I  have 
already  seen  enough  to  convince  me  of  the  hollow 
mockery  of  what  is  termed  fashionable  society  ;  and 
I  would  much  rather  be  known  as  the  simple- 
hearted  country-girl — "the  flower  of  the  plantation" 
— the  "  idol  of  the  colored  people"  at  home,  than  to 
reign  here  as  "  the  belle  of  the  season  ;"  admired  for 
my  fading  beauty  ;  courted  for  my  father's  "  uncer 
tain  riches ;"  and  abused  for  the  very  "  charms" 
that  make  up  my  attractions.  When  I  am  older 
and  wiser,  I  will  write  you  a  homily  on  this  subject, 
giving  the  benefit  of  my  experience  to  future  gen 
erations. 

On  the  subject  of  matrimony,  too,  I  have  some 
peculiar  notions  of  my  own  ;  and  if  time  and  trial 
confirm  them,  perhaps  I  may  one  day  come  out 
strong  as  "  a  reformer"  of  the  conjugal  institution. 
My  present  idea  is,  that  not  more  than  one  couj5le  in 
ten  are  fit  to  marry,  and  become  "  breeders  of  sin 
ners." 

Only  those  who  have  received  a  Spartan  educa 
tion  ;  who  have  pure  blood  in  their  veins ;  who  are 
perfectly  healthy  and  passably  handsome ;  in  a 
word,  only  they  who  have  sound  bodies  with  intel 
lect  to  match,  should  be  permitted  to  multiply  and 
"  improve  the  breed"  of  their  species.  This  vulgar 


AT    NEWPORT.  189 

propagation  of  human  deformities  ;  this  awful  an 
nual  crop  of  candidates  for  the  almshouse,  ought  to 
be  "  nipt  in  the  bud."  I  propose  that  all  candidates 
for  the  Hymenean  Aalter  should  be  put  through  a 
regular  board  of  Medical  and  Moral  Examiners,  and 
licensed  or  not,  accordingly.  But  this  is  another 
fruitful  theme,  that  must  be  reserved  for  future  con 
sideration.  I  am  quite  forgetting  that  I  should  be 
gossiping  of  and  from  Newport. 

Let  me  see  what  has  happened  since  my  last. 
Oh!  we  have  had  a  fight  on  the  piazza,  which 
created  a  great  sensation ;  some  of  the  ladies  took 
such  an  interest  in  it  as  to  "  faint  away."  It  seems 
that  a  couple  of  New-Yorkers,  between  whom  a 
challenge  had  passed  the  day  before,  met  yesterday 
morning,  when  a  regular  fisticuff  fight  came  off 
right  under  my  window.  It  was  a  bloody  and  ex 
citing  scene.  The  parties  are  brothers  in  laiv  (but 
not  in  feeling),  and  one  is  a  foreigner,  who  calls 
himself  a  Count.  I  have  heard  all  sorts  of  stories 
about  the  affair  ;  but  I  don't  suppose  the  Mirror 
would  publish  them  if  I  were  to  report  them. 

And  La  Grange's  Grand  Concert  was  also  one  of 

the  events  of  yesterday.     It  was  fully  attended,  and 

would  have  been  jammed,  had  not  "  the  speculators" 

run  the  tickets  up  to  three  dollars,  which  amounted, 

9* 


190 


BELLE    BR1TTAN 


in  many  cases,  to  a  "  tariff  of  prohibition."  Madame 
disappointed  me.  She  seemed  to  have  a  Newport 
fog  in  her  throat;  besides,  her  selection  of  pieces 
was  not  the  best  adapted  to  her  voice.  She  at 
tempted  the  "  Brindisi,"  written  for  a  full  contralto, 
to  which  no  pure  soprano  can  do  justice.  'And  then, 
what  is  the  Brindisi  without  the  legs ! 

Gottschalk  was  great !  His  performance  on  the 
piano  is  a  new  revelation — -so  strong,  so  true,  so 
liquid,  and  so  sweet.  It  is  the  very  poetry  of  music. 
I  believe  he  will  play  again  at  Mrs.  Bostwick's  Con 
cert  on  Friday  evening,  at  which  Brignoli  will  also 
assist. 

There  has  been  a  gloom  cast  over  the  guests  of 
the  "  Bellevue," — the  shadow  of  death  having  fall 
en  upon  them  more  suddenly  than  "  a  summer's 
cloud."  Mr.  James  G.  Ring,  a  well-known  and 
highly  esteemed  lawyer  of  New- York,  fell  instantly 
dead  at  the  dinner-table  on  Sunday,  just  after  pre 
paring  for,  and  helping  a  lady  to  a  dish  of  lobster 
salad.  A  friend  of  mine,  who  sat  near  him,  says  a 
bullet  through  the  centre  of  the  heart  could  not 
have  killed  him  quicker.  Only  the  day  previous  I 
was  conversing  with  him  ;  and  thought  at  the  time, 
I  had  seldom  seen  a  fresher,  healthier,  finer-looking 
man.  He  was  about  six  feet  tall,  and  only  forty- 


AT    NEWPORT.  191 

three  years  of  age.  His  death  was  caused  by  para 
lysis  of  the  heart,  induced,  I  am  told,  by  troubles 
that  he  has  lately  had  with  one  of  his  clients,  to 
whose  interests  Mr.  Ring  had  successfully  devoted 
the  last  ten  years  of  his  life.  The  suddenness  of  his 
exit,  though  fortunate  for  him,  is  shocking  to  his 
friends.  The  night  he  went  was  beautiful,  and  I 
could  not  help  thinking,  as  I  looked  up  at  the  serene 
and  eternal  stars,  that  the  souls  of  the  departed,  who 
have  "  gone  over  to  the  majority,"  are  infinitely  bet 
ter  off  than  even  the  happiest  of  us  at  the  watering- 
places. 

"  There  shall  no  tempest  blow, 

Nor  scorching  noontide  heat ; 
There  shall  be  no  more  snow, 

No  weary,  wandering  feet. 
And  we  lift  our  trustful  eyes 

From  the  hills  our  fathers  trod, 
To  the  quiet  of  the  skies — 

To  the  Sabbath  of  our  God." 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER    No.     XIII. 

August  15,  1856. 


"  THAT  will  do,"  I  said  to  myself,  on  leaving  the 
ball-room  of  the  "  Fillmore"  last  evening,"  where 
there  was  a  perfect  Congress  of  beauty,  gathered 


192  BELLE    BRITTAN 

from  all  sections  of  the  Union.  It  was  the  first 
really  successful  and  brilliant  "Hop"  of  the  season. 
There  were  about  five  hundred  persons  present ;  and 
the  ladies  "looked  their  prettiest."  The  toilettes 
were  magnificent ;  and  several  "  novelties  were  in 
troduced"  to  grace  the  occasion.  One  very  stately, 
graceful,  artistic-looking  matron  from  New- York, 
who  is  always  dressed  in  unimpeachable  taste,  a 
perfect  "  model  artiste"  in  millinery  matters,  ap 
peared  in  a  voluminous  cloud  of  white  muslin 
flounces,  ornamented  with  bunches  of  lady-apples, 
("  as  large  as  life  and  twice  as  natural,")  her  arms 
and  neck  glittering  with  diamonds  almost  as  large 
and  as  bright  as  her  eyes — a  rich,  beautiful,  and 
fruity-looking  picture.  She  dances  and  talks,  also, 
as  well  as  she  dresses. 

The  next  most  brilliant  costume  in  the  room  was 

worn  by  Madame ,  a  magnificent  New- Orleans 

lady  (married),  "a  beauty  without  paint."  The  lovely 
and  graceful  daughters  of  the  Brazilian  Minister  were 
also  exquisitely  dressed ;  and  to  see  them  float 
through  the  waltz,  was  like  listening,  by' moonlight, 
to  the  delicious  strains  of  some  dreamy  music,  every 
melodious  undulation  suggestive  of  pleasant  remi- 
niscences : 


AT    NEWPORT  193 

"  Of  hopes,  and  fears  that  kindle  hope, 
An  undistinguishable  throng 
Of  gentle  wishes  long  subdued, 
Subdued  and  cherished  long." 

But  I  must  not  venture  further  into  this  flower- 
garden  of  beauty  ;  and  fear  I  have  already  "  o'er- 
stept  the  modesty  of  the  Mirror"  in  these  few  per 
sonal  allusions.  If  I  were  writing  for  the  Herald  or 
the  Express,  I  could  give  you  many  piquant  par 
ticulars  touching  the  "personal  property"  and  charms 
of  the  ladies,  with  initials  and  stars  to  spell  out  their 
names  ;  and  if  I  were  only  liberal  enough  in  the  ex 
pression  and  diffusion  of  compliments,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  my  letters  would  be  considered  "  popular 
reading."  I  am  sometimes  rather  surprised  that  the 
Mirror  don't  indulge  a  little  more  in  this  sort  of 
fashionable  titillation.  But  that  is  your  business. 

Among  the  distinguished  gentlemen  pointed  out 
to  me  at  the  "  hop,"  I  was  glad  to  see  the  gallant 
and  agreeable  Prince  John  Yan  Buren  ;  and  that 
clever,  classic  sportsman,  Charles  Astor  Bristed.  It 
does  one's  eyes  good,  in  a  crowd  of  professional 
dancing  men,  whose  principal  talents  are  in  their 
heels,  to  "  light"  no  wand  then  upon  a  man  who  has 
something  in  his  "  upper  story." 

Ah !  this  reminds  me  of  a  gentleman  whose  ac 
quaintance  I  made  last  evening,  and  whose  superior 


194 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


attractions  I  felt  the  moment  our  eyes  looked  into 
each  other.  Strange,  isn't  it,  that  everybody  we 
meet  either  attracts  or  repels  us  !  We  are  all  like 
notes  in  music,  accordant  or  discordant ;  and  I,  for 
one,  don't  believe  it  is  any  use  to  try  to  overcome 
repugnances.  It  is  not  honest ;  on  the  contrary,  it 
is  hypocritical  and  insincere.  Henceforth  I  mean  to 
follow  my  instincts,  just  as  far  as  society  will  let  me. 
There  are  some  persons  whom  I  always  feel  that  I 
never  can  see  enough  of,  or  get  near  enough  to  ;  and 
"wice  wersa"  as  Mr.  Weller  says.  This  is  the  law 
of  Nature — the  voice  of  God — positive  and  negative 
electricity.  And  apropos  of  my  last  night's  beau. 

I  may  as  well  confess  it,  I'm  a  little  smitten.  He 
asked  me  to  walk  on  the  balcony  and  look  at  the  full 
moon  ;  but  I  could  only  look  up  to  him.  The  scene 
was  lovely — "  too  bright,  too  beautiful  to  last."  I 
went  to  bed  at  one,  but  not  to  sleep.  Such  a  night 
was  not  made  for  slumber.  Don't  scold,  because, 
like  an  unsophisticated  country  girl,  I  dip  my  pen 
in  my  heart,  disclosing  "  secrets  sweet  and  precious." 
I  cannot  help  it.  As  the  orators  say  on  great  occa 
sions,  "  I'm  full  of  my  theme,"  and  cannot  stop 
without  saying,  that  if  my  beautiful  beau  and  I  were 
the  only  two  human  beings  living  in  the  world,  as 
our  great  grandparents  were  "  long  time  ago,"  I  am 


AT    NEWPORT.  195 

inclined  to  believe  that  we  should  commit  matrimony 
very  soon,  without  any  "  supernatural  solicitings" 
from  the  devil  in  disguise.  Judging  from  my  present 
feelings,  the  courtship  would  be  short,  and  the 
"  engagement"  still  shorter.  As  it  is,  do  not  be  sur 
prised,  any  day,  to  hear  that  your  "  fair  correspon 
dent,"  with  this  new  flame  in  her  bosom,  like  "burn 
ing  Sappho,"  jumps  from  the  rocks  into  the  cold, 
oblivious  sea — hisses  and  disappears. 


LETTER     No.    XIV. 

August  16,   1856. 


MY  DEAR 


I  HAVE  nothing  to  say  to-day,  so  I'll  say  it  briefly. 
The  weather  is  glorious,  except  there  is  a  good  deal 
of  dust  in  the  atmosphere,  which  is  considerably  less 
agreeable  than  a  fog.  Such  moonlights  I  have  never 
seen  before  ;  and  such  mornings  too,  when  the  sun 
comes  rolling  up  from  his  ocean  bath,  shorn  of  his 
dazzling  rays  (like  our  feminine  beauties  when 
emerging  from  the  waves).  This  morning,  with  the 
thermometer  at  70°  and  not  a  cloud  in  the  horizon, 
it  was  ecstacy  to  breathe.  The  world  seemed  full  of 


196  BELLE    BRITTAN 

poetry,  and  the  devil  (for  the  time  being)  exorcised 
from  the  Universe.     Or,  as  Byron  has  it : — 

"  The  sky  was  so  clear, 
And  purely  beautiful — 
That  God  alone  was  to  be  seen  in  heaven." 

I  was  going  to  stop  here  ;  but  the  following  libel, 
from  the  "  Washington  Star,"  has  just  been  enclosed 
to  me;  and,  as  they  say  in  Congress,  "  I  rise  to  make 
a  personal  explanation:" 

"  Belle  Brittan,"  who  writes  the  piquant  letters  to  the  New-York 
Mirror,  from  Newport,  is  no  other  than  the  redoubtable  "  Fanny 
Fern,"  alias  Mrs.  Parton,  wife  of  the  man  who  doesn't  believe  in  a 
Devil." 

I  am  decidedly  not  "  Fanny,"  nor  "  the  wife  of 
the  man  who  doesn't  believe  in  the  devil ;"  nor  any 
other  man's  wife.  It  is  a  false,  malicious,  and  libel 
lous  publication;  and  I  demand  both  retraction  and 
satisfaction.  The  Boston  Courier  calls  me  a  "juve 
nile  Miss  Martineau."  Now  I  can  stand  that ;  the 
idea  of  juvenility  balancing  the  blue-stocking  odium 
of  the  comparispn.  But  to  marrying  me  off,  without 
ceremony,  to  Fanny  Fern's  "  Jim,"  is  more  than  I 
can  submit  to.  It  is  not  only  an  implication  against 
the  veracity  of  your  "  own  correspondent,"  but  it 
involves  something  more — 1  needn't  say  what.  And 
this  is  not  the  worst  of  it. 


AT    NEWPORT.  197 

A  gentleman  has  just  arrived  here,  who  has  come 
"  hundreds  of  miles  to  make  rny  acquaintance  !"  (So 
says  his  exquisite  note,  written  on  salmon-colored 
satin  paper).  And  suppose  he  hears  that  the  "  Belle" 
he  is  so  deparately  in  love  with,  is  "not  what  she 
is  cracked  up  to  be  !"  "Won't  he  feel  like  the  man 
who  rolled,  groaning,  on  the  dirty  ground,  when  he 
thought  he  was  hearing  Whitfield  preach — and  he 
wasn't!  It  is  too  bad.  With  your  permission,  I 
will  here  publicly  denounce  the  editor  of  the  Wash 
ington  Star  as  a  ,  a and ;  addicted 

to ,  and  guilty  of  ,  &c.,  &c.  And  I  de 
mand  of  him  the  amende  due  to  injured  innocence 
and  virtue.  There's  a  smeLLof  blood  in  the  atmos 
phere. 


LETTER    No.    XV. 

August  20,  1856. 


MY  DEAR 


IT  is  the  morning  after  the  "  Grand  Germania 
Concert  and  Ball,"  and  raining  and  blowing  tre 
mendously.  The  great  doors  of  the  "  Ocean  House" 
are  closed ;  the  long  hall  looks  dark  and  dreary,  and 
we  are  all  shut  up  like  nuns  in  a  convent.  I  have 


198  BELLE    BRITTAN 

got  a  private  headache  (the  effect,  I  suppose,  of  last 
night's  waltzing),  and  one  or  two  other  little  aches 
and  pains,  which,  in  the  aggregate,  are  giving  me 
a  slight  touch  of  "  the  blues."  But  "  what's  the  use 
of  sighing  ?"  I  can  read  in  everybody's  eyes  to-day 
the  remonstrance  of  Sir  John  Suckling  to  a  "party 
similarly  situated :" 

"  Prithee,  why  so  pale,  fond  lover, 

Prithee,  why  so  pale  1 
Will,  if  looking  well  can't  move  him, 
Looking  ill  prevail  !" 

But  perhaps  your  readers  will  say,  with  my  Lord 
Hamlet,  "  something  too  much  of  this."  I  have 
been  mentally  and  morally  discussing  the  question 
of  suicide  for  the  last  week,  but,  as  yet,  have  come 
to  no  fixed  conclusion.  Still  I  may  make  a  para 
graph  or  two  for  you  on  this  subject  before  the  end 
of  the  season.  At  this  point  one  of  the  "hall-boys" 
brings  me  my  letters,  among  which  I  select  the 
following  sample  of  "lots  more  of  the  same  sort :" 

"  BOSTON,  Aug.  18,  1856. 

"  FRIEND  BELLE, — Having  seen  several  of  your  spirited  sketches 
in  the  New-York  Mirror,  and  being  desirous  of  forming  the  acquaint 
ance  of  such  an  estimable  young  lady,  do  not  think  it  impertinent 
in  me  for  thus  writing  to  an  entire  stranger.  As  I  think  of  visiting 
Newport  the  last  of  this  month,  I  shall  want  some  young  compan 
ion  to  accompany  me  in  my  noon-day  drives  or  evening  strolls  upon 
the  beach  ;  and  as  I  do  not  know  of  any  of  my  friends  being  there 


AT    NEAVPORT.  199 

(and  being  rather  bashful),  and  you  saying  there  are  no*beaux,  I  do 
not  know  but  that  I  might  prove  quite  a  gallant  for  you.  But  hold  ! 
you  may  have  a  companion — some  one  who  claims  a  good  share 
of  your  attention  ;  if  such  is  the  case,  let  me  withdraw  ;  if  not,  and 
you  should  feel  inclined  to  correspond  with  me,  a  note  addressed  to 
me  will  meet  with  prompt  attention. 

"JAMES  P.  SEYTON." 


To  which  I  must  say — once  and  for  all — my  dear 
James,  it's  "  no  use  talking."  I  couldn't  look  at 
you  noiv,  if  you  were  as  rich  as  Croesus,  and  as 
handsome  as  Antinous.  I  am  "engaged  for  the 
season."  Spare  your  affections  ;  save  your  traveling 
expenses  ;  and  "  weep  for  the  love  that  Fate  forbids." 
You  are  not  alone  in  this  predicament — it  is  the 
great  sorrow  of  the  Universe. 

To  return  to  my  starting  point.  The  ball  was  a 
great  success ;  and  the  concert  preceding  it  was  a 
rich  treat.  The  dining  saloon  of  the  "  Ocean"  was 
filled  to  overflowing;  the  ladies  were  exquisitely 
dressed,  and,  like  the  stars  of  heaven,  only  "differed 
from  one  another  in  glory."  As  the  Mirror  don't 
approve  of  "  taking  oft'"  ladies'  dresses  publicly,  I 
will  not  undertake  to  describe  any  individuality  of 
costume,  or  particularly  allude  to  the  beautiful  and 
brilliant  belles  of  the  evening.  There  was  a  dazzling 
array  of  beauty ;  and  I  suppose  almost  every  one 
present  would  give  the  palm  to  a  different  favorite. 


200  BELLE    BRITTAN 

As  for  the  gentlemen,  I  am  assured  there  was  a 
great  many  pairs  of  pantaloons  present ;  but  I  only 
saw  one  man ;  and  you  can  construe  the  confession 
as  you  please.  Did  you  ever  see  "night's  candle" 
fade  away  before  the  "bright  effulgence  of  the  god 
of  day  ?"  That's  it,  exactly. 

[Here  enters  another  "  Hall  boy,"  with  the  follow 
ing  note,  and  a  splendid  bouquet,  composed  of  flow 
ers  purely  white,  accompanied  by  the  "  card"  of 
"  the  donor :"] 

"  If  Miss  Belle  Brittan  notices,  in  her  correspondence  to  the  Mir 
ror,  the  magnificent  Ball  of  last  evening,  may  I  ask  her  not  to  allude 
to  the  "  fair  one  with  the  golden  locks,"  of  whom  I  overheard  a 
gentleman  say,  that  she  reminded  him  always  of  Scott's  "  White 
Maid  of  Avenel,"  because  I  am  desperately  in  love  with  her  my 
self,  and  would  rather  she  would  not  know  how  much  she  is  admired. 
Please  suppress  her  in  your  description  ;  and  oblige  one  who, 

"  For  seven  long  years  has  wooed 
The  Lady  of  the  Land." 

Of  course  I  will.  Your  sweet  "  Lilly  of  Liddes- 
dale"  shall  not  be  allowed  to  "  waste  her  sweetness 
on  the  desert  air."  Mark  her,  "  private  perfume," 
and  then  chide  the  wanton  winds  that  kiss  her  rosy 
lips,  and  ' :  shake  thousand  odors  from  their  dewy 
wings." 

The  only  piquant  items  to  be  added  to  this  idle 
communication,  I  shall  not  add  to-day.  They  are 


AT    NEWPORT.  201 

of  the  most  scandalous  description,  and  will,  doubt 
less,  get  wind  through  the  columns  of  some  less  fas 
tidious  journal  than  the  Mirror.  Perhaps  I  have 
betrayed  too  much  "  knowledge  of  good  and  evil," 
even  by  this  allusion.  Just  as  the  lady  who  was 
driving  with  Charles  Lamb  near  where  some  gentle 
men  were  bathing  in  puris  naturalibus,  when 
Charley  remarked,  after  an  awkward  silence,  that 
"  it  was  shameful  for  women  thus  to  expose  them 
selves."  "  Women  !"  exclaimed  the  prude  by  his 
side,  "they  are  not;  they  are  men."  "  Ah!"  replied 
the  gentle-hearted  Charles,  "  I  didn't  observe" 


MY  DEAR  - 


LETTER    No,.   XVI. 

August  22,  1856, 


A  GREAT  many  of  the  fashionable  fops  here  wear 
their  hair  parted  in  the  middle  a  la  Fremont.  Is 
this  one  of  the  "  signs  of  the  times  ?"  I  think  it 
looks  effeminate,  and  consequently  unbecoming  in 
the  "  opposition  sex."  I  know  from  the  "  CHRISTS"  on 
canvas,  that  the  old  painters  have  generally  adopted 
that  style  of  representing  their  sacred  "  subject ;" 
but  they  also  give  him  an  unmutilated  beard,  which 


202  BELLE   BRIT-TAN 

many  old  fogy  Christians  of  the  present  day  object 
to ;  and  I  have  even  known  fashionable  ladies  to 
"  set  their  faces  against"  whiskers  !  I,  for  one, 
rather  like  the  feeling  of  them  ;  and  think  a  hand 
some  mouth,  fringed  with  a  soft,  silky  moustache, 
has  a  moss-rosy  look  that  is  rather  inviting.  If  I 
were  a  man,  I  never  would  have  my  face  scraped, 
It's  a  barber-ous  business  altogether. 

There  is  nothing  talked  of  to-day,  except  Madame 
de  "Wilhorst's  Concert  of  last  evening,  which  was 
attended  by  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  persons  ; 
and  the  "  Hop"  at  the  "Atlantic,"  which  was  only 
so-so  ;  and  the  Private  Ball  to  be  given  by  the  Belle- 
vue  Bachelors  this  evening.  These  are  the  upper 
most  open  topics  of  the  morning ;  but  there  is  always 
an  undercurrent  of  gossip  here  that  keeps  the 
tongues  of  the  scandal-mongers  as  lively  as  mill- 
wheels.  One  lady  has  been  almost  ruined  by  the 
report  that  one  of  the  "  bugs"  had  entered  her  room 
when  she  was  asleep  (not  a  bed-bug  ;  one  of  Fanny 
Fern's  "  Red  Rovers"),  but  a  big  black  beetle,  an 
inch  long  !  And  other  scandal  of  the  same  sort  ha? 
created  no  little  excitement.  For  further  particu 
lars,  I  must  refer  the  curious  to  the  "  small  bills" 

of and and ,  the  bulletins  and 

pillories  of  the  town,  who  shine  in  this  department 


AT  NEWPORT.  203 

of  "  light  literature"  like  Randolph's  rotten  mack 
erel.  Every  hour  of  the  day  I  am  reminded  of  the 
melancholy  warning  of  Shakspeare  : 

"  Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as  snow, 
Thou  shall  not  escape  calumny." 

It  is  a  confounded  shame  that  one  or  two  fishy 
reputations  should  taint  the  atmosphere  of  a  whole 
hotelfull  of  maids  and  matrons,  who  are  as  "  pure  as 
the  icicles  that  hang  on  Dian's  temples."  I  declare, 
I  sometimes  think  it's  no  use  to  be  so  very  particu 
lar  to  wear  clean  linen,  if  an  uncharitable  world  is 
all  the  time  suspecting  it  to  be  soiled.  Were  not 
"  virtue  its  own  reward,"  I  shouldn't  much  care  to 
be  any  ;'  better  than  one  of  the  wicked."  I  have  al 
ways  felt  a  sympathy  for  "  the  man  in  the  fable," 
who,  on  being  wrongly  accused  of  stealing  a  lamb, 
went  right  off  and  stole  a  big,  fat  sheep. 

I  have  just  received  a  copy  of  the  "  Providence 
Journal,"  with  the  following  neat  bit  of  satire  en 
closed  in  black  lines  : — 

• 

DESTITUTION  IN  NEWPORT. — There  is  a  great  deal  of  distress  in 
Newport  among  the  fair  visitors  who  make  that  delightful  watering- 
place  a  summer  paradise.  The  suffering  is  of  a  nature  hitherto  un 
known,  and  against  which  there  would  seem  to  have  been  no  pre 
caution.  It  comes  from  a  lack  of  men.  At  no  previous  season  has 
the  beautiful  in  that  city  borne  such  an  alarming  disproportion  to 
the  useful.  Parties  languish,  excursions  grow  dull,  bathing  loses  its 


204  BELLE    BRITTAN 

attractions,  and  a  thousand  red  lips  ask,  "where  are  the  mcnl" 
Laces,  that  a  princess  might  envy,  fall  over  shoulders  that  a  sculptor 
would  choose  for  his  model.  Silks,  like  those  that  sweep  the  floors 
of  the  Tuilleries,  rustle  in  the  deserted  parlors — deserted  by  the  men 
— or  along  the  cool  piazzas. 

Jewels,  that  have  beggared  husbands  and  driven  fathers  to  despe 
ration,  flash  upon  hands  that  never  knew  an  hour's  employment,  and 
upon  arms  whose  rounded  beauty  "  might  tempt  the  saintship  of  an 
anchorite."  Hoops,  of  a  circumference  that  no  carriage  could  contain, 
and  that  have  to  be  raised  to  pass  through  the  street  door,  crush 
against  each  other.  But  all  in  vain.  Of  what  use  is  it  that  the  ladies 
adorn  themselves  only  for  the  eyes  of  each  other  1  Even  women 
cease  to  envy  where  there  are  no  men  to  admire. 

We  can  think  of  no  place  where  a  few  enterprising  young  men 
of  the  right  stamp — young  men  who  have  nothing  to  do,  and  don't 
know  how  to  do  that,  with  a  good  stock  of  kid  gloves  and  glossy 
mustaches,  could  find  a  wider  field,  or  be  likely  to  do  a  better 
business,  than  in  Newport. 

(rood!  The  reasonable  and  well-founded  com 
plaints  of  your  "  fair  correspondent "  have  been 
responded  to  at  last.  That  Providence  editor  is 
"  some  pumpkins,"  as  we  say  in  the  South.  He 
takes  pity  on  us  like  a  MAN.  And,  by  the  way,  a 
lady,  who  recently  came  over  in  the  same  ship  with 
him  from  Europe,  says  "  he  is  every  inch  a  man  ;" 
handsome,  too,  and  single,  with  a  beard  like  a  Pacha, 
and  "  an  eye  to  threaten,  or  command."  Just  the 
sort  of  eye  that  I  should  like  to  have  "on  me"  all 
the  time  ;  and  to  look  into  when  I  wake  up  in  the 
morning.  Bat  such  a  "  blessing  from  Providence" 
one  can  hardly  hope  for ;  and  although  a  very  sweet 


AT    NEWPORT.  205 

voice  has  often  whispered,  "  I  wish  he  were  here  ;" 
yet,  like  the  stars  above,  he  only  pities  at  a  dis 
tance  ;  winks,  but  never  warms  us.  I  can  only 
say,  the  remoter  the  object  we  worship,  the  safer 
we  are  in  our  idolatry.  Let  the  angels  of  heaven 
keep  all  their  tears  for  her  whose  tantalized  lips  can 
almost  touch  the  forbidden  fruit  she  may  never 
taste  ;  and  whose  uncontrollable  affections  are  for 
ever  doomed  to  fall  back  in  Alpine  torrents  upon  her 
own  heart. 

P,  S. — I  believe  I  am  suffering  a  little  from  an 
"  affection  of  the  heart,"  a  common  complaint  among 
the  young  girls  here  in  Newport ;  and  I  am  advised 
to  go  to  New- York  and  consult  the  eminent  surgeon 
Dr.  Carnochan,  in  regard  to  my  "  case."  I  heard  a 
married  lady  say  yesterday,  that  ahe  had  the  nicest 


MY  DEAR 


LETTER    No.    XVII. 

August  23,  1856. 


BRAVO,  Bellevue   Bachelors !     You  did  the  hand 
some  thing  last  night.     That  brilliant  ball  was  a 
regular  eclipser.     Such  dressing  and  undressing  of 
10 


206  BELLE    BRITTAN 

beautiful  women  was  never  before  seen  in  Newport. 
The  fine  saloon  was  crowded  ;  and  the  tasteful  pink 
decorations,  with  pyramids  of  gas-fixtures  in  the 
corners,  lighted  up  the  scene,  as  the  Italians  say,  a 
giorno.  Sister  and  I  had  between  us  a  couple  of 
beaux,  fresh  from  New- York,  who  kept  us  from 
feeling  alone  in  the  crowd,  and  helped  us  bountifully 
to  the  "  chicken  fixins"  and  other  things.  The  affair 
was  unanimously  voted  a  great  success,  and  only 
cost  the  Bachelors  who  gave  it  a  V  apiece.  Some 
of  the  costumes  were  magnificent  beyond  my  power 
of  description.  One  dress,  in  particular,  worn  by  a 
fine-looking  "  mother  of  ten  children"  was  perfectly 
stunning — the  admiration  of  all  the  gentlemen,  if 
not  the  envy  of  all  the  ladies.  It  was  the  richest 
pattern  of  moire  antique  (in  red  and  white)  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  The  splendor  of  the  bodice  was 
subdued  by  a  lace  bertha  of  misty  fineness ;  and  the 
whole  effect,  including  about  a  pint  of  diamonds, 
poured  over  all,  was  dazzlmgly  brilliant.  Or,  as 
Mrs.  Partington  would  say,  "  the  tout  en  scramble 
was  perfectly  munificent." 

But  the  oddest  whim  exhibited  in  the  way  of  or 
nament  was  a  head-dress,  composed  of  gold  pieces 
about  the  size  of  a  half-eagle.  I  did  not  count  them 
up,  but  I  should  think  there  was  at  least  a  hundred 


AT   NEWPORT.  207 

dollars  worth  attached  to  the  young  lady's  hair  by 
fine  gold  chains,  and  dangling  around  her  neck  and 
ears.  It  was  decidedly  a  distingue  conceit ;  and 
reminded  me  of  a  man  I  once  saw  in  New-Orleans, 
who  was  adorned  all  over  with  gold  coins  of  all  sizes. 
But  the  pretty  young  lady  who  wore  them  looked 
like  an  Indian  Princess  in  her  barbaric  ornaments  ; 
and  surely  the  fashion  has  economy  to  recommend 
it.  Unlike  most  other  feminine  trinkets,  it  will 
always  be  worth  what  it  cost.  Another  fine-looking 
New- York  lady  wore  in  her  hair  imitation  ears  of 
Indian  corn,  as  large  and  as  natural  as  life.  'My 
"  private  beau,"  who,  from  his  long  habit  of  writing 
for  the  "  KNICKERBOCKER,"  is  always  on  the  scent  of 
a  pun,  very  gravely  whispered  in  my  ear  that  there 
was  one  beauty  in  the  room  decidedly  "  corned." 
But  the  fair  lady  need  not  be  ashamed  to  "  acknow 
ledge  the  corn."  Her  ornament  was  original,  na 
tional,  and  becoming;  and  she  looked  handsome, 
enough  for  the  embodiment  of  the  great  "maize 
institution,"  so  beautifully  embalmed  "  in  the  Song 
of  Hiawatha." 

Before  the  ball,  we  had  a  most  delightful  concert 
at  "  Ocean  Hall,"  given  by  Madame  La  Grange, 
assisted  by  Gottschalk,  Brignoli,  Albites,  and  Guion. 
Madame  was  in  splendid  voice,  and  sang  superbly. 


208  BELLE    BR1TTAN 

Brignoli  was  as  charming  as  ever  ;  and  G-ottschalk 
flung  a  shower  of  liquid  diamonds  all  over  us.  He  is 
the  most  inspired  and  inspiring  fountain  of  melody 
that  has  ever  played  into  my  unsophisticated  ears. 
He  makes  the  piano  sing,  and  talk,  and  laugh,  and 
cry  ;  and  he  makes  me  laugh  and  cry,  too. 

"And  now  'tis  like  all  instruments, 

Now  like  a  lonely  flute  ; 
And  now  it  is  an  angel's  song, 
That  makes  the  heavens  be  mute." 

Albites  and  Gruion  are  both  excellent  pianists,  but 
in  the  presence  of  Gottsohalk  they  are  like  satellites 

lost  in  the  sun. 

• 
Thank  the  Lord  and  Congress,  letter  postage  must 

be  prepaid !  Uncle  Sam  "  owes  me  one"  for  being 
the  means  of  swelling  his  revenues.  I  am  literally 
getting  to  be  "a  lady  of  letters."  And  that  isn't 
all.  Bouquets,  lockets,  locks  of  hair,  and  derogatory 
types  are  beginning  to  be  sent  in.  I  arn  flattered 
to-day  by  the  receipt  of  a  notelet  from  the  author  of 
"  Baby  Belle,"  one  of  the  most  charming  poets  in 
America.  I  am  told  that  he  is  a  "  love  of  a  youth"— 
a  perfect  hyacinth  (I  don't  mean  one  of  the  "  Ruth 
Hall"  sort),  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  if  your 
11  Belle"  and  that  "  Belle"  should  ever  meet,  two 
souls,  like  two  dew-drops,  would  rush  into  one  ! 


AT    NEWPORT.  209 

"  I  saw  two  clouds  at  morning 

Tinged  with  the  rising  sun, 
And  in  the  dawn  they  floated  on, 
And  mingled  into  one." 

Doesn't  that  tell  a  story  and  contain  a  prophecy 
besides  ?  But  hear  how  pleasantly  he  talks  to  me 
on  paper : 

"  Let  me  look  at  the  profile  and  contour  of  charming,  impudent, 
bedeviling  Belle  Brittan,  through  the  end  of  a  muddy  inkstand. 
Your  letters  have  made  a  tremendous  hit  (as  Derby  would  say)  ;  all 
the  leading  papers  in  the  country  are  copying  them,  &c.,  &c.,  &c. 

"  How  softly  on  the  bruised  heart 
The  words  of  kindness  fall." 

Only  yesterday  I  received,  per  post,  a  solemn  re 
monstrance  against  suicide.  To-day  I  do  not  need 
it.  There's  a  link  of  love  left  to  keep  me  on  the 
sunny  side  of  Jordan  a  few  days  longer.  I'll  not  go 
out  quite  yet.  So — 

"  Once  again  before  we  part, 

My  empty  glass  shall  ring, 
And  he  who  has  the  warmest  heart 
Shall  loudest  laugh  and  sing." 


210  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    XVIII. 

Sept.  1,  1856. 
MY  DEAR  : 


ONCE  more  unto  the  beach,  dear  friends,  and  I'm 
off.  This  is  the  first  day  of  Autumn  ;  and  all  the 
morning  I  have  had  a  sort  of  last  rose-of-summer 
feeling,  that  is  anything  but  buoyant.  My  Newport 
dream  is  over,  and  there  are  only  pleasant  reminis 
cences  remaining.  But  the  sweet  perfume  that  lin 
gers  around  a  broken  vase  is  better  than  nothing ; 
and,  sometimes, 

"  Even  in  a  dream  to  be  blest, 
Is  so  sweet  that  I  ask  for  no  more." 

The  weather  is  golden  ;  and  yet,  to  my  parting 
eyes  everything  is  tinged  with  a  hue  of  sadness.  I 
have  found  friends  here,  new  and  old,  from  whom 
my  heart  relucts  to  sever.  We  have  taken  together 
our  last  drive ;  listened  sympathetically,  for  the  last 
time,  to  that  most  plaintive,  yet  most  soothing  of  all 
melodies,  "  When  the  Swallows  Homeward  Fly ;" 
eaten  together  our  last  supper,  (which  was  more  a 
rite  than  a  repast,)  and  now  the  everlasting  farewell 
feeling,  which  hourly  haunts  us  from  the  cradle  to 
the  grave,  must  be  compressed  into  a  word,  a  grasp 


AT    NEWPORT.  211 

of  the  hand,  a  look,  and,  it  may  be,   rounded  into 
a  tear. 

In  returning,  last  evening,  from  our  last  walk  to 
"  The  Cliffs,"  leaning  upon  the  strong  arm  of  one 
whose  thoughts  always  seem  to  "take  hold  on  eter 
nity,"  (the  most  self-poised  and  substantial  soul  I 
have  ever  rested  on,)  and  knowing  how  widely  our 
paths  must  diverge  on  the  morrow,  I  asked  him — 
and  I  fear  the  question  was  uttered  in  a  voice  that 
sounded  like  a  sigh — if  we  might  not  meet  again. 
How  my  heart  thrilled,  and  my  whole  being  trem 
bled,  while,  in  tones  that  seemed  to  come  from  the 
stars,  his  answer  "  stole  in  music  on  my  soul :" — 

"  I  have  asked  that  dreadful  question  of  the  hills  that  look  eter 
nal  ;  of  the  flowing  streams  that  lucid  flow  forever  ;  of  the  stars, 
amid  whose  fields  of  azure  my  raised  spirit  hath  walked  in  glory. 
All,  all  were  dumb.  But  while  I  gaze  upon  thy  living  face,  I  feel 
there's  something  in  the  love  that  mantles  through  its  beauty  that 
cannot  wholly  perish.  We  SHALL  meet  again,  Clemanlhe  !" 

But  where  am  I  ?  I  began  by  saying  I  was  going 
to  bathe  ;  but  instead  of  laving  the  body,  my  soul  is 
floating  away  upon  an  ocean  of  vague,  yet  infinite 
hope — in  the  bright  pathway  that,  for  a  little  season, 
has  illumined  my  "troubled  sea."  Perhaps  I  ought 
to  apologize  for  shedding  this  sort  of  sentimentalism 
upon  the  cold  atmosphere  of  an  iron-hearted  world ; 


212  BELLE    BRITTAW 

but  the  solemn  mysteries  and  sweet  secrets  of  life 
have  been  revealed  to  me  here  for  the  first  time — 
"  sitting  by  the  sounding  sea ;"  and  whether  the 
indifferent  reader  sympathizes  or  censures,  I  can  only 
hint  at  what  the  poet  calls,  "  thoughts  beyond  the 
reaches  of  the  soul,"  that  are  springing  up  in  my 
heart  like  flowers  that  are  blooming,  "  down  in  the 
sunless  retreats  of  the  ocean." 

In  this  receptive  mood  I  chanced  to  take  up  Ever 
ett's  late  Oration  at  Albany — a  prose  poem  on  the 
Universe  of  Universes  ;  and  I  feel  as  if  I  had  received 
my  first  "  adequate  conception"  of  Grod  and  His  Cre 
ations.  It  is  the  sublimest  uninspired  production  I 
have  ever  read  ;  and  my  brain  actually  aches  at  the 
stretching  his  thoughts  have  given  to  my  imagina 
tion.  Read  it,  everybody ;  and  then,  like  poor  Tom 
Hood,  go — 

"  Kneel  upon  the  sod, 

And  sue,  in  forma  pauperis,  to  God." 

Finally  and  affectionately, 

BELLE  BRITTAX. 

P.  S. — THE  OLD  STORY  TOUCHINGLY  TOLD. — I  have 
seldom  listened  to  a  more  melodious  lament  for  the 
"  love  that  fate  forbids,"  than  sobs  through  the  fol 
lowing  lines  which  I  have  received  from  a  fair  un- 


AT    NEWPORT.  213 

known,  Mary  C.  Ames.  There  is  a  mingling  of  the 
mental  moaning  of  Poe,  with  the  spiritual  tenderness 
of  Longfellow,  in  this  heart-chant,  that  "touches 
us  nearly :" — 

VARANA  VANE. 

How  wildly  I  loved  thee,  0  Varana  Vane, 

How  madly  I  loved  thee,  God  only  can  know. 
Thy  fate  hath  covered  my  past  with  pain, 

Thy  fate  hath  shadowed  my  life  with  woe. 
A  fair,  golden-haired  bride  with  curls  bedight — 

I  stood  and  worshiped  thee  from  afar, 
As  oft,  in  the  hush  of  the  drowsy  night, 

I  have  worshiped  heaven's  most  distant  star. 

I  have  stood  and  worshiped  thee  !     Was  it  right  1 

Was  it  right  to  love  thee,  the  pure,  the  young  1 
While  the  cursed  vows  of  thy  marriage  plight, 

Like  the  dirges  of  hell  through  my  bosom  rung  ! 
No,  "  it  was  sin,"  so  the  world  hath  said, 

"  A  terrible  sin,"  groaned  the  father,  who  sold 
To  the  iron  heart,  and  the  dotard  head, 

His  beautiful  child — sold  her  for  gold  ! 

I  tenderly  loved  thee,  0  Varana  Vane, 

Yet  loved  thee  not  more  than  thou  lovedst  me  ; 
Thine  eye  followed  mine  with  a  look  of  pain, 

Thy  soul  followed  mine,  it  was  plain  to  see. 
It  was  hard  to  love  him,  at  .cold  duty's  call ; 

And  what  to  thee  were  the  arabesque  dome, 
Or  the  fretted  room,  or  the  sculptured  hall  1 

'Twas  thy  poor  young  heart  thai  wanted  a  home. 

I  knew  it  was  hopeless — knew  we  must  part ; 

Knew  lhat  thy  being  I  never  could  win  , 
Yet  I  held  thee  once  to  my  panting  heart, 

And  told  thee  my  love — oh,  was  it  a  sin  T 

10* 


214  BELLE    BRITTAN   AT   NEWPORT. 

Was  it  a  sin  1     All  the  angels  smiled  : 

The  white  stars  smiled,  in  the  blue  above ; 
But  the  world,  the  world,  would  have  cursed  thee,  child1, 

Had  it  known  of  thy  pausing  to  hear  of  my  love. 
Not  knowing,  it  blamed  ;  it  said  thou  wert  cold  ; 

Said  such  a  nun  should  never  have  wed  ; 
Nor  cared  that  the  fresh  young  life  was  cold 

To  the  iron  heart,  and  the  dotard  head. 

It  is  well  with  thee  now,  0  Varana  Vane  ! 

It  is  well  with  thee — deep,  and  sweet,  is  thy  rest ; 
The  womanly  heart  once  aching  with  pain, 

Lies  quiet  at  last,  in  thy  heavenly  breast. 
Oh,  beautiful  art  thou,  my  Varana  Vane  ! 

In  thy  death-robes  of  virginal  loveliness  ; 
Thy  beauty  awakens  no  torture  of  pain, 

As  when  wreathed  in  the  pearls  of  thy  bridal  dress. 

Now  I  hear  a  voice  that  I  understand — 

A  low,  sweet  voice — when  my  heart  is  still — 
I  feel  the  light  touch  of  a  tremulous  hand, 

Till  my  pulses  leap  with  their  olden  thrill. 
I  catch  the  gleam  of  a  seraphim  face. 

The  young,  fair  face  that  can  never  grow  old  ; 
See  a  maiden's  form  of  willowy  grace, 

See  the  shifting  sheen  of  her  hair's  wan  gold — 
O  Varana  Vane,  in  a  deathless  embrace 

I  enfold  thee !     Our  love  can  never  grow  cold ! 


BELLE  BRITTAN  HERE  AND  THERE. 


BELLE  BRITTAN 

HERE  AND  THERE. 


LETTER    No.    I. 

NEW- YORK  HOTEL,      > 
Oct.  30,  1857.  \ 

MY  DEAR : 

You  may  have  occasionally  caught  glimpses  of 
BELLE  BRITTAN  in  the  Mirror.  How  would  you 
like  to  see  her  face  to  face,  and  not  through  a  glass 
darkly.  Suppose  I  come  occasionally,  like  Longfel 
low's  "  Spirit-Bride,"  and  take  the  vacant  chair  at  the 
pleasant  tea-table  of  your  very  intelligent,  very  par 
ticular,  and  very  critical  readers  ?  Shall  I  be  wel 
come,"  or  ill-come  ?  That,  of  course,  will  depend, 
like  grandma's  presence  in  the  nursery,  upon  the 
quantity  of  sugar-plums  I  bring  in  my  pocket.  But, 
as  the  ladies  say,  when  they  mean  to  produce  an .  ef 
fect  by  over-dressing  (I  have  no  such  intention), 
"  you  must  let  me  come  just  as  I  am  ;"  in  slippers 


218  BELLE    BRITTAN 

or  gaiters  ;  in  loose  dress  or  full  dress  ;  in  dimity  or 
in  diamonds  ;  tut  never  tight-laced  nor  "  straight- 
laced  ;"  and  may  I  never  have  a  husband,  if  I 
should  ever  appear  in  the  clean  streets  and  tidy 
drawing-rooms  of  Boston,  or  anywhere  else,  slip 
shod  or  slovenly. 

The  Transcript,  next  to  my  "  first  love"  (was 
there  ever  a  woman  who  had  touched  the  twenties 
that  hadn't  had  a  first  love  ?)  is  a  journal  after  my 
own  heart.  I  like  its  looks,  its  size,  its  cleanness, 
and  its  cleverness.  I  have  a  holy  horror  of  filthy 
sheets,  and  mean  to  keep  out  of  them  as  long  as  I 
can — printed  sheets,  lying  sheets,  winding  sheets, 

and  all.  I  like  the  Transcript  as  I  love ,  ( that 

means  a  man  !)  There  is  a  peculiar  odor,  individu 
ality,  uniquity,  je-ne-sais-quasity  about  it  that 
pleases  my  fancy.  And  what  more  does  a  woman 
require?  Now,  after  so  flattering  a  "  proof"  of  my 
personal  regard,  I  am  almost  sure  of  being  "  pressed" 
into  your  "  form,"  and  "  locked  up"  in  your 
"  chased"  embraces.  (You  see  I  am  pretty  well 
"  up"  in  the  technicalities  of  the  printing-office.) 
Let  all  this  pass  as  a  sort  of  introductory  rattle, 
while  "  taking  one's  things  off,"  and  preparing  for 
the  tea  and  table-talk. 

Don't  think  I  have  a  budget  of  news  to  open. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  219 

Even  a  woman's  gossiping  genius  cannot  compete 
with  the  lightning.  But  I  may  sometimes  touch 
upon  matters  and  things  not  usually  manipulated  by 
the  electric  "operators"  for  the  "Associated  Press." 
In  this  cosmopolitan,  labyrinthine  city,  there  are 
thousands  of  "  interior  views" — the  parlors  of  the 
rich  and  the  hovels  of  the  poor — wherein  we  must 
look  to  find  the  virtues  and  the  vices,  the  joys  and 
the  sorrows,  the  struggles  and  the  achievements,  the 
failures  and  the  successes,  which  make  up  that  mys 
terious  sum-total  of  what  is  called  life  in  New- 
York. 

And  there  is  a  great  deal  of  life  (and  death,  too,) 
in  this  throbbing  ganglion  of  humanity — this  surg 
ing,  troubled  sea,  whose  waters  cannot  rest.  Inten 
sified  by  numbers,  and  excited  by  friction,  we  feel 
the  moral  and  immoral  magnetism  of  the  multitude, 
sparkling  and  glowing  in  the  very  atmosphere  we 
breathe.  We  become  charged  and  surcharged  with 
a  sort  of  external  vitality,  which  makes  us  think 
quick,  move  quick,  live  quick,  and  die  quick.  "We  have 
here  in  New-  York  the  best  and  the  worst  of  every 
thing.  Our  virtues  and  vices  run  to  extremes  (not  un- 
frequently  meeting).  Our  Christians  are  saints  ;  and 
our  sinners  are  fiends.  It  must  needs  be  in  such  a 
perpetual  scene  of  temptation,  beset  and  besieged  by 


220  BELLE    BRITTAN 

"  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil."  The  "  temp 
tations"  we  read  of  are  tame  in  comparison  to  those 
we  encounter  here  in  our  "  daily  walk  and  conver 
sation."  What  enchanting  vices,  what  seductive 
luxuries,  what  beautiful  extravagancies  are  wooing 
us  to  ruin  at  every  turn !  Those  laces  at  Stewart's, 
those  jewels  at  Tiffany's,  those  bonnets  at  Ferrero's, 
and  those  intoxicating  suppers  (for  two)  at  Mal- 
liard's !  Can  all  these  fascinations  be  resisted  ? 

It  is  one  of  the -severe  blessings  of  these  "hard 
times"  (the  jewel  in  the  toad's  head),  that  they 
afford  not  a  little  aid  to  one's  moral  resolutions. 
They  have  brought  reflection  to  the  thoughtless  ; 
economy  to  the  extravagant ;  and  even  quiet,  fireside 
happiness  to  many  who  have  long  lived  in  a  whirl  of 
outside  excitements.  I  know  it  is  said  that  the  un 
wonted  stringency  of  the  money  market  is  likely  to 
bear  hard  against  matrimony  ;  and  that  Brown,  the 
ubiquitous  undertaker,  has  received  orders  to  post 
pone  all  fashionable  weddings,  and  even  to  curtail 
the  expenses  of  his  aristocratic  funerals. 

Many  a  man  has  failed,  and  gone  home  sadly  de 
jected,  with  his  face  as  long  and  as  blue  as  an  old 
fashioned  grave-stone ;  and  when  the  anxious  wife 
has  asked,  "  What's  the  matter?"  as  she  found  him 
moping  in  the  library,  has  received  the  reply  :  "  We 


HERE    AND    THERE.  221 

are  ruined ;  all  is  lost ;  house,  furniture,  carriages, 
horses — all  must  go  !"  (He  had  neglected  to  settle 
all  these  little  properties  on  his  wife — the  present 
popular  preliminary  to  a  "  suspension.")  "  They 

must  all  g-o,"  he  continued  ;  "  there  is  nothing  left 

* 

tut  poverty  and  misery  !" 

I  verily  believe  cousin  Lou — Lou  is  my  beau — 
spends  more  money  at  Bininger's  for  wines  and 
cigars  than  an  economical  woman  like  me  would  re 
quire  to  support  a  "growing  family;"  and  I  hope 
this  hint  will  not  be  lost  upon  him  and  his  extrava 
gant  and  selfish  club  associates.  But  I  am  afraid 
his  heart  is  turning  to  marble ;  for  he  goes  to  the 
"  Dusseldorf  Gallery"  every  evening — so  he  says — 
and  gazes  at  the  cold  beauty  of  the  "  Greek  Slave," 
which  he  hopes  to  win  in  the  coming  distribution  of 
the  "  Cosmopolitan  Art  Association."  He  says  he 
has  invested  $3,  for  which  he  receives  a  $2 
Art  Journal  for  one  year,  and  a  $5  engraving, 
called  "  Manifest  Destiny,"  representing  three 
beautiful  young  girls  engaged  in  fortune  telling. 
He  has  dreamed  that  he  holds  the  lucky  certificate, 
and  already  talks  with  most  provoking  fondness  of 
his  marble  bride,  who  will  be  as  contented  in  a  cot 
tage  as  in  a  palace  ;  whose  charms  will  never  wither, 
and  who  will  be  entirely  satisfied  with  "  Nothing  to 
"Wear,"  forever.  Aggravating  cousin  Lou ! 


222  BELLE    BRITTAN 

I  went  last  night  to  see  the  famous  "  Ronzani 
Ballet  Company"  at  the  Broadway.  I  believe  it  is 
Carlyle  who  calls  the  ballet  a  bevy  of  thin  damsels, 
spinning  around  in  bare  arms  and  muslin  saucers. 
But  notwithstanding  the  Ronzani  girls  looked  like 
open  umbrellas  with  two  pink  handles,  the  dancing 
was  perfectly  charming.  Lamoreux  is  better  than 
Ellsler,  so  light,  so  graceful,  and  so  feathery  in  her 
movements.  It  is  music  addressed  to  the  eye  ;  and 
if  she  could  only  dance  on  the  keys  of  a  pianoforte, 
her  toes  would  play  the  liveliest  tune,  in  perfect  time, 
without  missing  a  single  note,  or  "  shake."  The 
house  was  crowded,  the  applause  vociferous. 

Now,  I  am  tired,  and  so  are  you  ;  and  yet  I 
haven't  come  to  what  I  meant  to  write.  As  I  can 
not  squeeze  it  into  a  postscript  (as  most  women  can 
all  that  they  really  have  to  say),  I'll  keep  what's  left 
until  I  "  come  again." 


LETTER    No\     II. 

NEW-YORK,  Oct.  29,  1857. 


MY  DEAR 


ARE  you  prepared  to  wage  an  eternal  war  against 
the   Commercial  "  Credit  System" — the  fatal  Upas 


HERE    AND    THERE.  223 

tree  that  overshadows  the  land,  and  whose  deadly 
fruits  are  the  pestilence  that  is  upon  us?  If 
so,  give  us  your  hand,  and  I  will  go  with  you, 
and  a  regenerated  people  will  go  with  you,  until  the 
honest-maxim,  "  Pay  as  you  go,"  shall  prevail  through 
the  world.  We  are  approaching  the  twentieth  cen 
tury  of  the  Christian  era,  and  men  are  flattering 
themselves  that  in  morals,  manners,  and  mercantile 
matters,  they  are  obeying  the  precepts  and  imitating 
the  example  of  the  author  of  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount !  Did  Jesus  of  Nazareth  ever  run  in  debt  ? 
"We  profess  a  great  admiration  for  the  learned,  zea 
lous,  and  eloquent  Paul — the  Webster  of  the  Apostles. 
Did  he  not  proclaim  that  great  doctrine  of  universal 
salvation — "  Owe  no  man  anything  !"  We  love  to 
laud  the  worldly  wisdom  that  fell  like  honey  from 
the  lips  of  Shakspeare.  And  has  he  not  left  us  that 
golden  motto,  worthy  to  be  engraved  upon  the  door 
of  every  counting-room  in  the  land,  and  blazoned  upon 
the  banners  of  nations — "  Neither  a  borrower  nor  a 
lender  be  ?"  Who  that  reads  these  words  may  not 
trace  the  keenest  sufferings  of  his  life  to  that  horri 
ble  monster — Debt,  which  is  now  pressing  like  a 
nightmare  upon  the  agonized  bosoms  of  millions  of 
strong  men  ;  aye,  and  of  gentle  women  too  !  And 
is  not  the  credit  system  the  primal,  the  sole  cause  of 
this  stupendous  misery  ?  Why  is  Wall-street  to-day 


224  BELLE    BRITTAN 

in  a  state  of  asphyxia  and  japonicadom  *  withering 
and  drooping  in  despair.  Wall-street  cannot  pay  its 
notes,  and  japonicadom  must  pawn  its  jewels  for 
bread.  The  one  has  borrowed  millions  on  paper 
"  promises  to  pay  ;"  the  other  has  run  in  debt  for 
diamonds  at  Tiffany's,  and  silks  at  Stewart's.  Paper 
representatives  of  money  have  been  mistaken  for 
property,  and  the  whole  world  of  bankers,  merchants, 
shopkeepers  and  manufacturers,  under  the  fatal  illu 
sions  of  the  credit  system,  have  been  "  like  little  wan 
ton  boys  swimming  on  bladders."  Now  the  bubbles 
burst ;  there  is  a  universal  sinking ;  the  day  of  set 
tlement  and  of  "judgment"  has  come.  The  smiling, 
wanton,  seducing,  bedecked  and  bedizened  genius  of 
Credit,  wrings  her  white  hands,  and  tears  her  golden 
hair. 

"  Where  will  this  end  1     Ye  powers  of  good  !" 

She  weeping  cries  forever. 
A  voice  replies  from  out  the  flood, 
"  Forever — and  forever  !" 

Let  me  illustrate  the  evil  against  which  journal 
ism  should  at  once  commence  a  crusade,  by  a  speci 
men  or  two,  showing  the  way  "  the  thing  is  done"  in 
New- York.  A  firm  of  jobbers,  composed  of  three 
partners,  commenced  business  a  few  months  ago  in 
one  of  the  "  marble  front  palaces"  on  Broadway. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  225 

They  had  for  capital  $10,000  each,  making  $30,000. 
A  brother  of  one  of  the  partners  lent  the  concern  his 
name  for  as  much  more,  making  the  entire  nominal 
capital  $60,000.  This  basis  gave  them  unlimited 
credit  with  the  banks,  the  manufacturers  and  the 
importers.  Of  course  there  was  no  difficulty  in 
stocking  their  spacious  store  with  goods  to  the 
amount  of  half  a  million — to  be  scattered  on  long 
credits  all  over  the  country.  But  how  long  would 
it  take  the  expenses  to  eat  up  the  capital  of  this  fast 
and  flourishing  concern  ?  The  rent  of  the  store  was 
$153000  a  year.  The  three  partners  could  not  "  live 
in  style"  for  less  than  $10,000  a  year,  each — an 
amount  equal  to  the  sum  they  put  in.  What  is 
the  result?  The  banks  contract,  and  the  house 
collapses.  The  party  who  "  lent  his  name"  for 
$30,000,  is  a  preferred  creditor.  The  balance  of  the 
"  assets"  are  a  pocket-book  full  of  protested  notes. 
Voila  tout  / 

Let  us  take  another  case  to  show  how  country 
merchants  "  do"  the  jobbers.  Tom  Rapid  carme  to 
town  a  year  ago  from  a  "  growing  city  in  the  west," 
with  a  bank  certificate  of  deposit  in  his  pocket  for 
$5,000,  and  letters  of  introduction  commending  him 
generally  as  a  wide-awake,  enterprising,  go-ahead, 
good  fellow.  He  buys  of  twenty  different  houses 


226  BELLE   BRITTAN 

$5,000  worth  of  goods,  and  stocks  his  new  store  with 
$100,000  of  merchandise  bought  "  on  time."  He 
goes  home  buoyant  with  success,  elated  with  his 
possessions,  and  begins  to  "  expand"  immediately. 
He  builds  a  new  house  ;  buys  a  fast  horse  ;  marries 
a  fast  woman  ;  takes  stock  in  a  superfluous  railroad  ; 
invests  money  in  a  fashionable  church  ;  becomes  a 
director  in  an  accommodating  bank  ;  pays  his  first 
notes  in  New- York  ;  quadruples  his  purchases  ;  stuffs 
all  the  country  stores  around  him  with  goods — 
and  bursts  !  These  are  instances  of  actual  occur 
rence,  an4  with  them  I  leave  your  rational  readers 
to  reflect  upon  the  ruinous  iniquities  of  the  credit  sys 
tem. 

The  general  complaint  of  impecuniosity  is  begin 
ning  to  affect  the  newspapers.  Thus  far,  nothing 
but.  the  cash  system  has  saved  them  from  the  com 
mon  crash.  There  are  not  more  than  half  a  dozen 
journals  or  periodicals  in  this  city  whose  publishers 
are  making  money. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  227 

LETTEE    No.     III. 

NEW- YORK  HOTEL,  J 

November  26,  1857.  $ 
MY  DEAR : 

I  HAVE  marked  this  letter  "  Number  Two,"  be 
cause  I  cannot  make  it  "  number  one."  The  cares 
of  the  world  sometimes  choke  the  spirit ;  it  will  not 
always  flow.  But  let  me  run  my  fingers  for  a  mo 
ment  over  the  keys  of  memory.  Perhaps  they  may 
touch  a  chord.  I  have  it. 

About  fifteen  months  ago,  when  your  "  fair  cor 
respondent"  was  taking  her  "otium  cum  dig"  and 
other  luxuries  among  the  salubrious  breezes  and 
saline  fogs  of  Newport,  there  came  to  her  room  one 
bright  morning  a  "  waiter"  bearing  a  neat  little 
card,  whereon  was  engraved  the  name  of  George 
Francis  Train.  Not  knowing  whether  he  was 
married  or  single,  I,  of  course,  was  entirely  "  at 
home,"  and  instantly  "  came  down,"  scarcely  stop, 
ping  to  smooth  my  hair,  or  shake  the  wrinkles  out 
of  my  skirticoats.  I  found  him  a  young,  splendid, 
dashing-looking  fellow,  with  a  head  like  Apollo's,  a 
voice  full  of  music,  a  hand  with  an  electric  thrill  in 
its  grasp ;  and,  as  the  stage-struck  newsboy,  who 
"  got  his  Shakspeare"  from  the  pit  of  "  the  Bowery" 


228  BELLE    B&ITTAN 

said,  \vith  "  an  eye  like  Ma's,  and  a  station-house 
like  the  Herald  and  Mercury  /"  His  first  words 
declared  the  object  of  his  visit,  and  carried  me  away 
"captive  into  captivity."  He  had  "called  to  pay 
homage  to  Belle  Brittan  /"  Was  not  that  enough 
by  way  of  introduction  ?  From  that  moment  we 
became  "  fast  friends ;"  and  from  that  hour  to  this, 
my  heart  has  followed  his  rising  fortunes  and  his 
flitting  footsteps,  as  one  of  the  blue-eyed  "  men  of 
Destiny."  (Mrs.  Train  is  in  England,  or  I  should 
not  dare  to  say  all  this.) 

I  suppose  you  know  that  Train  is  a  "  Boston  boy  ;" 
but  you  do  not  know,  what  you  will  soon  learn,  that 
he  has  become  a  full-grown  American  man.  Read 
his  "  Young  America  Abroad ;"  read  his  "  Young 
America  in  Wall-street"  (to  be  published  next  week) ; 
read  his  "  Letters  from  Everywhere,"  published  in 
the  Merchant's  Magazine,  the  New- York  Herald,  and 
the  London  Times ;  and  when  you  have  traveled 
with  him  (as  I  have  followed  him  in  his  writings) 
over  one  hundred  thousand  miles,  and  looked  into 
his  fresh  face  and  earnest  eyes,  you  will  agree  with 
all  who  know  him,  that  "  Young  America"  has  no 
fitter  embodiment — no  more  remarkable  representa 
tive,  than  my  friend  George  Francis  Train.  Left  an 
orphan  at  the  age  of  four  years,  somewhere  on  the 


HERE    AND    THERE.  229 

shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  he  has  fought  his  way 
up  the  hill  of  life ;  and  although  still  upon  the 
sunny  side  of  thirty,  he  has  learned  the  geography 
of  the  world  by  "  spreading  himself''  all  over  its 
surface  ;  and  studied  human  nature,  in  all  its  various 
forms,  phases,  and  conditions — from  the  crudities 
and  nudities  of  the  pastoral  Paradise  of  New-Zealand, 
to  the  formalities  and  fineries  of  the  regal  palaces  of 
Europe.  And,  phenomenal  and  incredible  as  it  may 
seem,  he  has  never  in  his  life  smoked  a  cigar,  nor 
drank  a  glass  of  wine. 

Last  evening,  granting  me  (the  most  affectionate 
of  all  familiarities)  the  privilege  of  "  feeling  in  his 
pockets,"  I  found  letters,  addressed  to  him,  of  the 
most  flattering  character,  from  many  of  the  most 
distinguished  gentlemen  and  noblemen  in  England  ; 
among  them  were  highly  complimentary  ones  from 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  from  Layard,  the  traveler 
(who  is  coming  to  the  United  States),  and  a  sweet 
little  note  from  one  of  the  noblest  ladies  in  England, 
signed  simply  "Fanny  Russell."  But  I'll  say  no 
more,  lest  the  autograph  hunters  should  be  for  feel 
ing  in  Train's  pockets,  too.  Read  "  Young  America 
in  Wall-street" 

The  scandal  of  the  week  is  the  notorious  "  Wood 
man  case ;"  and  pray,  consider  me  blushing  up  to 

11 


230  BELLE    BRITTAN 

my  very  eyebrows  while  alluding  to  so  scandalous 
an  affair.  Mrs.  Caroline  Woodman,  as  all  the  world 
is  learning,  is  the  wife  of  a  New-Orleans  druggist, 
and  being  the  daughter  of  a  fashionable  dress-maker, 
passed  for  a  fashionable  lady.  I  remember  seeing 
her  at  Saratoga  and  Newport  two  or  three  years  ago, 
with  her  thirty  trunks,  and  a  new  dinner-dress  for 
every  day  during  "  the  season."  She  was  pointed 
at  by  the  gossips  for  her  remarkably  small  waist,  or, 
as  was  said,  for  "being  laced  within  an  inch  of  her 
life,"  no  one  at  that  time  suspecting  her  guilty  of 
"  loose  habits."  Having  made  what  the  French 
call  a  marriage  de  convenance,  of  course  "  a  lover" 
was  as  necessary  as  a  carriage ;  and  it  seems  that 
a  young  New- York  dandy,  whose  family  is  very 
wealthy,  has  for  years  occupied  that  peculiar  poodle- 
like  position.  *  *  *  * 

I  cannot  omit  to  mention  a  pun  perpetrated  on 
the  occasion  by  "mine  host,"  Cranston,  one  of  the 
wittiest  and  cleverest  of  men.  "  What  is  all  this 
noise  about  Furniss  and  Mrs.  Woodman  ?"  inquired 
an  excited  guest  of  the  landlord.  "  Oh,  nothing  of 
any  consequence,"  replied  Cranston,  scarcely  moving 
the  risible  muscles  of  his  serio-comic  face,  "  only  he 
was  chased  and  she  wasn't,  that's  all." 


HERE   AND   THERE.  231 

LETTER     No.    IV. 

NEW-YORK,       ) 
November  6,  1857.  J 

MY  DEAR : 

#  *  *  #  ~\\TE  are  on  the  eve  of  stirring,  if  not 
of  bloody  events.  The  cursed  credit  system,  the 
primal  cause  of  this  universal  collapse  in  the  finan 
cial  world,  has  led  to  all  sorts  of  "  suspensions,"  and 
thrown  hundreds  of  thousands  of  operatives  into  the 
streets  of  our  cities.  The  Savings  Banks  (in  New- 
York  city  alone,  they  hold  $29,000,000)  refuse 
specie ;  and  even  beggars  feel  that  they  have  a  right 
to  live.  Hunger  grows  heartless,  and  necessity 
knows  no  law.  The  cry  for  bread  may  be  answered 
by  a  shower  of  bullets  ;  but  that  only  affords  a 
remedy  for  the  dead.  The  living  must  be  fed. 

I  once  heard  an  eloquent  abolitionist  say,  that 
"never  a  night  bell  rings  in  Richmond,  but  the 
mother  presses  her  infant  closer  to  her  breast."  I 
am  afraid  our  own  New- York  wives  and  mothers 
may  soon  be  filled  with  even  greater  alarms.  In  the 
mean  time,  our  citizens  should  look  to  the  characters 
of  the  candidates  who  aspire  to  the  control  of  our 
municipal  affairs. 

I  have  incidentally  alluded  to  the  "  credit  system." 
Let  me  most  explicitly  denounce  it  as  the  cause  of 


232  BELLE    BRITTAN 

all  our  commercial,  and  most  of  our  social  troubles. 
The  whole  world  is  in  debt ;  and  more  than  half  the 
world  is  bankrupt.  The  system  of  buying  and  sell 
ing  "on  time,"  is  all  wrong.  It  is  unwise,  undemo 
cratic,  unjust,  and  unchristian.  And  while  on  this 
subject  of  debt,  let  me  call  your  attention  to  a  forth 
coming  work  from  the  pen  of  George  Francis  Train, 
Esq.,  entitled  "  Young"  America  in  Wall-street." 
It  is  a  book  for  the  times ;  and  will  startle  our  old 
fogy  financiers  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  a  clear  sky. 
Read  it — notice  it — there  is  not  a  smell  of  abolition 
ism  in  all  its  300  pages. 

Another  work  is  about  to  be  issued  from  the  pro 
lific  national  press  of  my  good  friends,  Messrs. 
Derby  &  Jackson,  which  will  not  only  deeply  inter 
est  Virginia  readers,  but  all  the  thoughtful  minds — 
the  men  and  the  statesmen,  of  the  entire  world.  I 
allude  to  "  Randall's  Life  of  Jefferson"  some  of 
the  proof-sheets  of  which  I  have  been  permitted  to 
read.  It  is  truly  a  great  and  glorious  work — the  first 
real  life  of  the  great  philosopher  and  statesman  we 
have  ever  had.  It  makes  three  large  octavo  volumes ; 
and  will  be  issued  in  the  most  substantial  and  ele 
gant  style,  between  this  and  New  Year's. 

But  our  art  and  literature  manufacturers  are  gene 
rally  in  a  state  of  "  suspended  animation."  The 


HERE  AND  THERE.  233 

publishers  tell  me  that  Marion  Harland's  "  Moss 
Side"  Miss  Cummins'  "Mabel  Vaughan"  and  Ma 
dame  Le  Vert's  "  Souvenirs"  are  in  fair  demand, 
while  most  all  other  literary  luxuries  are  but  as 
"  drugs  in  the  market."  In  regard  to  the  fine  paint 
ings  now  on  exhibition  in  this  city,  I  could  write 
reams,  did  time  and  space  permit.  In  addition  to 
the  standard  "  Dusseldorf"  (and  a  very  high  standard 
it  is),  we  have  a  British  Grallery  and  a  French  Gal 
lery,  recently  opened ;  and  I  have  never  seen  any  Art 
exhibitions  in  New-York  so  well  attended.  Unem 
ployed  gentlemen,  and  ladies  who  have  no  money  to 
squander  at  Stewart's,  daily  retire  into  these  silent 
and  beautiful  worlds  of  Art  for  solace  and  for  inspi 
ration.  Powers'  "  Grreek  Slave,"  at  the  Dusseldorf, 
now  opened  again  by  the  Cosmopolitan  Art  Associa 
tion,  and  one  of  the  premiums  of  the  approaching 
distribution,  draws  daily  crowds  of  admirers.  For 
the  small  investment  of  three  dollars,  the  subscriber 
receives  a  fine  five  dollar  engraving,  the  Cosmopolitan 
Art  Journal  for  one  year,  a  chance  to  get  a  fine  pic 
ture,  and  even  the  marble  beauty,  which  "  enchants 
the  world."  The  subscribers,  also,  to  any  of  the 
three  dollar  magazines,  who  send  their  names  to  the 
Association,  stand  an  equal  chance  to  win  a  prize. 
I  saw  yesterday,  on  the  list  of  members,  the  names 


234  BELLE    BRITTAN 

of  nearly  all  the  present  Governors  in  the  Union ; 
and,  as  stringent  as  the  times  are,  the  number  of 
subscribers  is  a  long  way  ahead  of  the  corresponding 
period  of  last  year. 

By  the  way,  several  of  your  accomplished  Rich 
mond  belles  are  just  now  enlivening  and  cheering  us 
by  their  pleasant  presence ;  and  among  them  one 
particular  "Bel"  who,  somehow,  reminds  me  of 
the  old  song — 

"  On  Richmond  hill  there  lives  a  lass,"  &c. 

Also,  of  Byron's  description  o"f  his  lovely  Hebrew 
beauty — 

"  All  that's  best  of  dark  and  bright 
Meet  in  her  aspect  and  her  eyes." 

But  upon  such  a  theme  I  dare  not  trust  even  my 
jaded  and  unpoetic  pen.  So  I'll  stop,  before  going 
too  far  in  a  dangerous  direction.  It  is  a  great  thing 
to  be  able  to  stop  in  time. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  235 


LETTER    No.    V. 


NEW-YORK, 
November   9,  1857 


MY  DEAR 


WE  are  basking,  almost  panting,  in  the  warm 
rays  of  an  Indian  summer  sun.  Overcoats  are  put 
off,  fires  are  put  out,  and  everybody  feels  like  a  glass 
of  good  spirits  with  the  "  chill  off."  Thus  far,  to 
day,  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the  "  Bread  or  Blood"  pro 
cession  in  the  streets.  It  requires  colder  weather 
than  this  to  excite  much  sympathy  for  the  sans  cu 
lottes,  who  have  raised  the  robber  cry,  "  Your  money 
or  your  life."  But  with  Talmadge  at  the  head  of 
the  police,  there  is  no  very  serious  difficulty  to  be  ap 
prehended  for  the  present.  His  efficiency  and  courage 
in  quelling  the  "  Astor  Place  riots"  is  not  yet  forgot 
ten.  A  mob  which  threatens  robbery  and  murder 
will  get  bullets  instead  of  bread.  Not  that  men  out 
of  employ,  and  willing  to  work,  will  be  permitted  to 
starve,  but  even  Christian  charity  will  not  give  alms 
to  the  poor,  under  the  stress  of  intimidation.  Our 
public  institutions  now  contain  nearly  seven  thousand 
paupers,  while  the  private  benevolence  of  our  citizens 
daily  feeds  twice  as  many  more  ;  and  a  large  proper- 


236 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


tion  of  these  street  and  door-step  beggars  are  gross 
imposters — thieves,  drunkards,  and  even  misers. 
Many  beg  from  day  to  day  who  have  comfortable 
deposits  in  the  Savings  banks ;  and  others  arc 
too  lazy  to  work,  even  when  labor  is  in  demand. 
Yet,  still,  the  times  are  severe,  and  the  coming 
inclemency  of  the  season  will  bring  terrible  suffer 
ing  to  thousands;  and  notwithstanding  the  city 
owes  some  $18,000,000,  it  is  better  to  increase  the 
debt,  than  to  allow  men,  women,  and  children  to  die 
of  starvation.  Let  the  streets  be  repaved,  the  wharves 
rebuilt,  and  the  Central  Park  swarm  with  an  army 
wielding  the  pick-axe  and  shovel.  There  is  much 
murmuring  at  the  slow  movement  of  the  powers  at 
"Washington,  in  regard  to  the  new  Post-Office.  Such 
apathy  in  times  like  these,  when  a  thousand  hands 
might  be  employed  in  the  work,  is  utterly  unpardon 
able.  "Work  now  means  bread,  and  bread  means 
life.  + 

Since  the  discharge  and  departure  of  Mrs.  Wood 
man,  the  gossips  have  had  their  tongues  tickled  by  an 
affair  "  in  fashionable  life,"  as  it  is  called,  in  which 
Miss  *  *  *  *  *  a  dashing  young  prima  donna  in 
one  of  our  fashionable  churches,  appears  as  the  party 
of  the  first  part,  and  a  fashionable  young  man  the 
party  of  the  second  part.  It  seems  that  the  gentle- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  237 

man  had  "taken  the  small  liberty,"  as  the  French 
man  said  when  he  kissed  his  wife,  of  making  some 
offensive  remarks  touching  the  character  and  habits 
of  the  damsel  aforesaid.  Whereupon  the  lady  Louisa 
dresses  herself  for  the  occasion,  calls  for  a  carriage, 
picks  up  a  female  friend  to  see  the  fun,  and  rides  up 
and  down  Broadway,  holding  a  neat  little  "  rod  in 
pickle,"  on  the  lookout  for  the  offender.  She  espied 
him  near  the  "  Bowling  Grreen,"  and,  on  stepping 
out  of  the  carriage,  proceeded  to  apply  the  cowhide 
to  her  traducer,  to  the  satisfaction  of  both  parties. 

The  question  discussed  among  the  young  men's 
clubs  is — How  ought  a  gallant  gentleman  to  act  in 
a  similar  situation  ?  To  strike  back  is  out  of  the 
question  ;  to  run  away  is  cowardly ;  to  seize  the 
weapon  might  involve  a  hard  struggle  and  close  em 
brace.  What,  then,  is  to  be  done  ?  If  the  woman 
is  pretty,  kiss  her  ;  if  not,  absquatulate  with  all  pos 
sible  dispatch. 

*****•» 

In  mercantile  matters  we  have  nothing  encoura 
ging.  The  banks  are  piling  up  specie,  but  still  refuse 
to  pay.  In  the  meantime  they  have  forfeited  their 
charters,  and  only  exist  by  extra-judicial  forbearance. 
The  money  power  laughs  at  the  Legislature.  But 
the  crisis  is  not  past.  The  worst  is  to  come.  Wait  a 

11* 


238  BELLE    BRITTAN 

little  longer.  The  Credit  Mob'dier  must  explode, 
the  Bank  of  England  suspend  or  extend,  the  English 
manufacturers  fail,  and  Louis  Napoleon  must  move 
his  army  or  lose  his  throne.  "We  are  on  the  eve  of 
stirring  events,  at  home  and  abroad.  Look  out  for 
"  the  news,"  and  for  "breakers  ahead." 


LETTER    No.    VI. 


November  11,  1857.     5 

MY  DEAR  -  : 

WE  are  having  golden  weather,  but  leaden  times. 
The  breath  of  the  "  Indian  Summer"  is  balmy  ;  the 
skies  are  very  bright  ;  but  the  faces  of  the  unem 
ployed  workmen  wear  an  ugly  frown,  and  portend  a 
coming  storm.  To  find  United  States  troops  sta 
tioned  in  Wall-street,  to  guard  the  public  coffers  from 
a  hungry  horde  of  robbers,  is  indeed  a  novelty  ;  but 
the  times  are  changing,  and  we  are  on  the  eve  of 
stirring  times,  at  home  and  abroad.  Speculation  as 
to  the  future  is  idle  ;  but  there  are  portentous  signs 
in  the  East  and  in  the  West  ;  and  tempests,  torna 
does,  and  even  earthquakes  may  be  looked  for.  The 


HERE    AND    THERE.  239 

commercial  world  is  upside  down ;  the  political 
world  is  in  a  snarl ;  and  society  generally  in  a  state 
of  semi-solvency,  the  precursor  of  re-organization. 
Fifteen  hundred  banks  have  suspended  specie  pay 
ment  ;  while  railroad  stocks  are  running  down  to 
zero.  There  is  general  rottenness  in  all  depart 
ments  of  trade  ;  and  the  computed  bankruptcies  of 
1857  already  amount  to  some  $16,000,000 — to  be 
wiped  out,  I  suppose,  by  a  general  act  passed  at  the 
coming  session  of  Congress.  So  we  go.  But  let  us 
turn  for  a  moment  to  matters  more  agreeable — to 
subjects  less  ungenial. 

I  have  before  me  an  "  advance  copy"  of  the  Cos. 
mopolitan  Art  Journal,  received  through  the  polite 
ness  of  the  publisher,  C.  £.  Derby,  Esq.,  who  is 
also  the  Actuary  of  the  Cosmopolitan  Art  Associa 
tion.  This  journal  is  a  large  quarto  Quarterly,  of 
about  70  pages,  devoted  exclusively  to  the  great  and 
growing  interests  of  the  Fine  Arts  ;  and  is,  in  itself, 
a  work  of  art  well  worth  possessing.  But  the  fea 
ture  of  the  present  number  of  the  Journal  is  the 
sketch,  biographical  and  pictorial,  of  Crawford,  the 
sculptor,  who  died  in  London  while  this  tribute  to 
his  genius  was  going  through  the  press.  His  disease 
(we  can  hardly  mention  it  without  suffering  a  sym 
pathetic  pang)  was  a  cancer  between  the  eye  and 


240 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


brain,  causing  the  one  to  protrude  almost  out  of  its 
socket,  and  the  other  to  burn  in  ceaseless  agony. 

Can  any  torture  more  terrible  be  imagined  ?  The 
very  organ  that  gave  him  the  most  exquisite  pleas 
ure,  and  enabled  him  to  win  the  most  enduring 
fame,  proved  fatal  to  his  peace,  to  his  labors,  and 
to  his  life.  Like  Anacreon's  grape,  that  which  has 
afforded  the  divinest  inspiration  may  prove  the  com 
missioned  instrument  of  death.  Crawford's  suffer 
ings,  which  he  bore  with  the  heroism  of  a  martyr, 
thank  God,  have  ceased ;  and  his  mortal  remains  are 
daily  expected  to  arrive  here,  in  his  native  city  ; 
and  over  them  we  shall  look  soon  to  see,  as  a  fitting 
memorial,  another  "  broken  shaft,"  erected  in  the 
silent  shades  of  Greenwood.  But  his  works  "  still 
live,"  to  perpetuate  his  memory ;  and  I  find  in  the 
Journal  before  me  the  most  complete  list  I  have  yet 
seen  of  the  beautiful  fruits  of  his  genius.  Among 
them  are  his  "  Orpheus"  (owned,  I  believe,  by  the 
Boston  Athenaeum)  ;  a  large  bas-relief — "  Lead  us 
not  into  Temptation" — executed  for  Mr.  Tiffany, 
of  Baltimore  ;  a  small  figure  called  the  "  Genius  of 
Autumn,"  for  Mr.  Paine,  of  this  city  ;  a  small  sta 
tue  of  Mr.  Jonathan  Phillips,  of  Boston  ;  the  "  Genius 
of  Mirth,"  for  Mr.  Hicks,  of  this  city  ;  the  "  Shep 
herdess,"  for  Mr.  Collins  ;  an  ideal  "  Bust  of  Sappho," 
for  Mr.  Charles  Parker,  of  Boston ;  Arts  of  "  Tragedy ;" 


HERE    AND    THERE.  241 

'  Vestals,"  &c.,  &c.  But  perhaps  you  can  find 
room  for  the  following  extract,  which,  I  am  sure, 
will  interest  many  art-loving  and  genius  appreciat 
ing  readers  : 

"  Indeed,  the  bare  enumeration  of  his  models  and  drawings  would 
fill  this  page.  They  embrace  every  variety  of  subjects — from  the 
magnificent  "  Adam  and  Eve" — "  Family  Suffering  under  the  rain  of 
Fiery  Serpents,"  five  figures  ;  "  Mother  and  Child  in  the  Deluge  ;" 
"  David,"  a  statue  ;  "  David  before  Saul,"  a  bas-relief;  "  The  Shep 
herds  and  Wise  Men  presenting  Offerings,"  bas-relief  of  twenty-four 
figures;  "  Christ  restoring  the  Blind,"  bis-relief;  "  Christ  and  the 
Woman  of  Samaria,"  bas-relief;  "  Christ  restoring  life  to  the  Daugh 
ter  of  Jairus,"  group  of  four  figures  ;  "  Christ  blessing  Little  Chil 
dren,"  bas-relief  of  fourteen  figures;  "Christ  ascending  from  the 
Tomb,"  bas-relief  of  five  figures ;  "  Prayer,"  a  statue  ;  "  Angel  teach 
ing  Children  to  Pray,"  a  group  of  three  figures  ;  "  Landing  of  Colum 
bus,"  group  of  five  figures  ;  three  statues  of  \Vashington,  all  differ 
ing  ;  two  designs  for  Washington  monuments  ;  equestrian  statues  of 
Washington  ;  sketches  for  the  statues  of  Franklin,  Jefferson,  Chan" 
ning,  Alston,  Henry  Clay,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  All  these  serve  to  mark 
the  varied  genius  of  the  artist,  and  his  untiring  industry  as  a  worker. 
In  1845,  he  writes  :  "  I  regret  that  I  have  not  a  hundred  hands  to 
keep  pace  with  the  workings  of  my  mind."  Such  was  his  ardor  in 
his  profession. 

"  Among  Mr.  Crawford's  later  works  may  be  mentioned  the  statue 
of  Beethoven,  owned  by  Charles  Perkins,  of  Boston  ;  the  many  de 
signs  for  the  pediment,  and  doors,  and  interior  statues  for  the  Capitol 
at  Washington,  and  the  equestrian  Washington  and  surrounding 
statues  of  Revolutionary  heroes,  for  the  Capitol  Square  at  Richmond. 
All  of  these  last-named  works  are  on  a  gigantic  scale,  and  show 
great  boldness  in  conception,  the  harmony  with  surroundings,  grace 
in  execution,  and  American  spirit  in  their  language.  They  have 
served  to  place  the  artist  at  the  head  of  the  American,  and,  as  we 
have  said,  amongst  the  greatest  of  modern  sculptors  and  designers. 

"  Of  the  works  on  the  Washington  Capitol,  it  is  unnecessary  to 
speak  in  detail — the  country  is  already  familiar  with  them,  from  com 
ments  of  the  press  and  representations  in  our  pictorial  papers  and 


242  BELLE    BRITTAN 

magazines.  The  pediment  of  the  northern  wing  of  the  building  is 
given  up  wholly  to  Mr.  Crawford's  designs,  to  which  we  may  briefly 
refer.  In  the  centre  is  the  statue,  "  Genius  of  America,"  which  we 
reproduce.  The  left  hand  of  the  figure  is  pointing  to  the  Pioneer, 
whose  axe  is  swung  in  air  to  lay  the  tree  before  him.  Then  we 
have  the  Hunter,  a  fine  figure  of  a  man  returned  from  the  chase, 
with  his  game  slung  over  his  shoulder,  while  his  dog  rests  at  his 
side.  Next,  we  have  an  Indian  Chief  sitting  upon  a  stone,  his 
tomahawk  dropped  at  his  side. 

"  The  attitude  is  one  of  profound  thought,  the  head  resting  upon 
the  hand,  and  the  elbow  upon  the  knee.  This  is  a  finely  conceived 
statue.  The  Indian's  wife,  with  babe  clasped  to  her  breast,  sits  upon 
the  ground  at  his  left,  leaning  upon  the  stone  seat  of  the  chief.  All 
this  group,  typical  of  the  changes  wrought  by  Saxon  settlement  in 
America,  is  admirably  conceived,  and  pleasing  to  the  beholder.  To 
the  right  of  the  centre  figure  we  first  have  the  continental  soldier, 
standing  erect,  in  the  act  of  drawing  his  sword  for  the  defence  of  his 
rights.  Then  the  figure  of  Commerce — a  merchant  sitting  upon  a 
bale,  his  hand  resting  upon  a  globe  before  him,  which  is  surmounted 
on  a  chest  of  tea.  His  right  foot  reposes  upon  a  box  of  specie, 
near  which  lie  bags  of  it — all  eminently  suggestive  of  the  commer 
cial  prosperity  which  followed  upon  our  liberty.  Next  are  two 
youths  in  the  act  of  offering  themselves  to  the  service  of  their  coun 
try.  Then  comes  Education — an  instructor  with  a  youth  at  his  side, 
poring  over  the  open  book  before  them.  Last  comes  the  figure  of 
Mechanism,  recumbent,  with  left  arm  thrown  over  a  cog-wheel,  the 
hand  clasping  the  handle  of  the  hammer.  This  is  a  noble  and  sug 
gestive  figure.  The  effect  of  the  whole  will  be  very  impressive  ; 
and  may  it  stand  for  untold  centuries,  not  only  as  a  monument  to  the 
great  sculptor's  genius,  but  also  as  one  of  the  crowning  glories  of  the 
Capitol  of  an  inseparable  Union. 

"  The  Virginia  Equestrian  Washington  is  a  most  magnificent  work. 
An  account  of  its  casting  at  the  celebrated  Munich  foundry,  together 
with  a.  fete  given  by  Miller,  the  founder,  to  the  sculptor,  was  given 
in  the  November  number,  1856,  of  this  Journal.  In  Munich  it  was 
regarded  as  a  perfect  triumph  of  art,  and  a  crowning  glory  to  the 
artist's  fame,  and  it  is  now  pronounced  one  of  the  noblest  bronzes  in 
the  world.  When  surmounted  upon  its  pedestal  at  Richmond,  and 
surrounded  by  its  associate  statues  of  Patrick  Henry,  Jefferson,  &c., 
it  will  form  a  fitting  tentrt  pitct  for  the  Old  Dominion  State. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  243 

"  Mr.  Crawford  paid  several  visits  to  his  natjve  land  during  the 
interval  from  1839  to  1856,  generally  to  adjust  commissions  and  de 
signs.  At  each  visit  he  was  received  with  every  mark  of  respect,  as 
a  man  and  artist,  by  his  countrymen.  Upon  the  occasion  of  one  to 
his  native  country,  Mr.  C.  was  wedded  to  Miss  Louise  C.  Ward, 
daughter  of  the  late  Samuel  C.  Ward,  banker  of  New-York  City,  and 
niece  of  Mrs.  John  W.  Francis." 

As  Crawford  leaves  his  widow  and  four  children 
without  any  considerable  worldly  fortune,  would  it 
not  be  a  beautiful  tribute  at  once  to  art,  to  genius, 
and  to  charity,  to  collect  his  works  together  for  exhi 
bition — the  proceeds  to  be  devoted  to  the  education 
and  support  of  those  who  bear  his  honored  name  ! 


LETTER    No.   VII. 

NEW-YORK,          ^ 
November  11,  1857.    \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

ARE  banks  benefits  ?  or,  as  Judge  Daly  boldly 
said  of  the  peculiar  institutions  of  Church-street, 
only  "necessary  evils?"  The  half  a  hundred  banks 
in  this  city  are  boasting  that  they  hold  to-day  about 
$18,000,000  of  specie,  the  largest  amount  they  have 
ever  had ;  while  they  settle  their  daily  "  differences" 
among  themselves,  at  the  "clearing-house,"  with 
bundles  of  rags,  in  the  shape  of  country  bank 
notes,  ^of  which  the  "Metropolitan  Regulator"  holds 
$5,000,000.  (And  yet  they  still  refuse  to  resume !) 


244  BELLE    BRITTAN 

"Would  not  packages  of  old  newspapers,  labelled 
"  money"  by  the  "  Bank  Committee,"  answer  the 
purpose  just  as  well  ?"  I  am  inclined  to  think  that 
the  sober,  thinking,  producing  masses,  are  beginning 
to  see  that  the  fifteen  hundred  suspended  banks 
throughout  the  United  States  make  up  a  gigantic 
system  of  stupendous  humbug — a  body  of  huge  con 
sumers,  not  to  say  vampires,  that  are  sucking  dry 
the  very  life-blood  of  the  people.  But  this  is  a 
tender  and  sore  subject ;  it  treads  on  dainty  feet, 
and  irritates  sensitive  corns.  It  is  so  pleasant  to  sit 
in  bank  parlors,  and  pronounce  judgment  at  the 
same  time  upon  the  character  of  the  "  offerings"  and 
of  the  offerers  ;  it  is  so  convenient  to  be  a  bank  director, 
and  help  one's  self  to  the  "  discounts ;"  so  respect 
able  to  be  a  bank  president  or  cashier ;  and  so  nice 
to  be  a  clerk  or  bookkeeper,  &c.,  &c.  How  is  it  pos 
sible  for  all  these  gentlemen  to  live  like  gentlemen 
without  these  indispensable  institutions,  which  bor 
row  money  of  their  depositors  without  interest,  and 
loan  it  back  to  them  with  interest!  Besides,  how 
they  foster  credit,  and  how  gloriously  credit  enables 
the  merchant  to  "  expand."  to  spread  himself,  to 
plunge  head  over  heels  into  debt  and  ruin. 

Let  me  illustrate.     A  well  known  "  gentleman  of 
the  press"  of  this  city,  much  respected  for  his  busi- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  245 

ness  habits  and  financial  sagacity,  not  satisfied  to 
draw  an  annual  income  from  the  profitable  journal 
with  which  he  was  connected,  of  $15,000  a  year 
(and  that,  too,  for  simply  giving  a  word  of  advice 
now  and  then  as  to  the  purchase  of  paper,  or  type, 
or  the  declaration  of  dividends),  goes  to  work  and 
gets  up  a  bank,  with  an  eye,  of  course,  on  the 
presidential  chair.  He  succeeds,  and  is  elected  to 
that  respectable  and  responsible  office,  with  the  fat 
salary  of  $5,000  a  year,  giving  him  the  comfortable 
aggregate  income  of  $20,000.  His  "  name"  stands 
"  number  one"  in  the  market,  and  his  "paper"  is 
bought  with  avidity.  He  has  nothing  to  do  but 
to  lend  his  autograph,  and  presto,  the  cash  comes  in 
golden  streams.  A  railroad  company,  in  a  tight 
place,  offers  him  a  bonus  of  $50,000  to  accept  their 
"  time  drafts"  for  $400,000.  The  temptation  is  too 
great  to  be  resisted.  He  accepts;  the  "panic" 
comes ;  the  drawers  collapse ;  the  acceptor  fails ; 
and  in  his  hour  of  need,  neither  the  bank,  nor  the 
journal  with  which  he  was  connected,  "have  any 
further  use  for  his  services."  Another  signal  victim 
to  the  banking  and  credit  system  ! 

Economy,  as  the  old  lady  said  of  the  Gospel  in 
New-Orleans,  is  just  now  raging  with  us  awfully. 
The  really  rich  are  afraid  to  show  it,  while  the 


246  BELLE    BRITTAN 

diamond  vest-buttons  of  dashing  clerks  are  rapidly 
disappearing.  Some,  I  suppose,  return  to  Tiffany's, 
while  others  go  "up  the  spout."  Fast  horses  are 
selling  at  a  discount,  and  "  fast  women"  have  a  less 
bold  and  exorbitant  look.  Everything  in  the  shape 
of  luxuries  is  "coming  down  with  a  run."  Last 
evening  I  attended  a  "  Poverty  Party"  in  the  Fifth 
Avenue ;  so  called,  not  because  the  lady  who  gave 
it  ever  had  the  first  unpleasant  taste  of  poverty,  but 
because  it  is  not  just  now  considered  bon  ton  to  give 
sumptuous  entertainments.  Indeed,  it  is  decidedly 
fashionable  here  to  be  poor.  So,  even  my  lady  All- 
cash^  while  treating  us  to  a  beautiful  bevy  of  young 
ladies — the  sweet  buds  and  flowers  of  Japonicadom — 
compelled  us  to  "perform"  the  Lancers,  with  only  a 
pianoforte  accompaniment;  and  for  "supper,"  in 
stead  of  the  customary  thousand  dollar  banquet,  gave 
us  home-made  cake  and  lemonade,  with  a  very 
weak  "  stick  in  it."  Voila  tout !  the  Fitzguzzles 
are  terribly  disgusted  with  the  new  regime;  but 
people  who  run  more  to  brains  than  abdomen  like 
it.  There  is  not  a  headache  in  a  dozen  of  these 
new-fashioned  soirees. 

I  have  seen  Mr.  McKean  Buchanan  play  Hamlet, 
and  am  surprised  at  his  improvement.  Formerly, 
he  was  coarse,  crude,  awkward,  and  ignorant;  but 


HERE   AND    THERE.  247 

hard  study  and  constant  practice  have  recreated  him. 
His  Hamlet  is  one  of  the  best  I  have  seen  for  many 
a  year ;  and  I  say  this,  even  while  disagreeing  with 
some  of  his  peculiar  readings.  Shakspeare  being 
the  poetic  "god  of  my  idolatry,"  I  am  nervously 
sensitive  to  every  look,  act,  and  intonation  of  the 
artist  who  attempts  to  represent  him  ;  and  there  are 
comparatively  few  of  what  are  called  "  Shakspearean 
performers"  that  I  can  sit  out.  Buchanan's  Hamlet 
I  could  see  repeated  with  pleasure. 


LETTER     No.  VIII. 

NEW-YORK,          f 
November    14,  1857.      $ 
MY  DEAR : 

THERE  seems  to  be  a  general  rejoicing  among  all 
but  the  Anglo-hating  Irish,  at  the  newsboys'  cry  of 
"  Delhi's  fallen."  This  joyful  intelligence  reached 
England  just  in  time  to  counteract  the  effect  of  the 
disastrous  commercial  news  from  America.  The 
funds  rose  as  Delhi  fell.  But  the  Indian  war  is  not 
ended,  and  the  hundred  millions  of  protested  Ameri 
can  "  paper"  are  not  paid.  The  financial  struggle 
of  England  is  yet  to  come. 

In  the  death  of  Cavaignac,  France  has  lost  one  of 


248  BELLE    BRITTAN 

her  bravest  generals  and  noblest  men.  He  died  sud 
denly  on  the  30th  of  October,  of  disease  of  the  heart, 
while  shooting  on  his  estates,  at  the  age  of  fifty-five. 
About  twenty-five  years  ago,  Louis  Phillippe,  fear 
ing  his  republicanism,  sent  Cavaignac  to  command 
the  army  in  Africa  ;  and  what  was  intended  as  a 
punishment,  became  his  path  to  fame.  But  ere  this; 
you  have  doubtless  given  your  readers  an  obituary 
sketch  of  his  remarkable  character  and  distinguished 
career.  "  In  person,"  says  a  contemporary,  "he 
was  one  of  the  most  commanding  figures  of  the  age 
— of  a  good  height,  well-proportioned,  muscular,  and 
of  an  energetic  carriage.  His  head  was  very  strik 
ing,  and  his  countenance  arrested  the  eye  of  the  most 
careless  observer,  by  its  expression  of  mingled  gravity 
and  sweetness,  overcast  with  that  strange  oriental 
air  of  impassive  self-command  which  in  a  greater  or 
less  degree  distinguishes  almost  all  the  "African 
Generals"  of  France,  and  marks  them  as  a  specific 
class  among  the  men  of  the  nineteenth  century." 

Bayard  Taylor  is  supposed  to  be  married  to  a 
flaxen-haired  maid  of  Grotha.  The  great  event  (to 
those  interested)  is  believed  to  have  come  off  a  few 
days  since  somewhere  in  the  romantic  regions  of  the 
Rhine.  And  on  that  happy  bridal  night  eight  of 
Bayard's  friends  sympathized  with  his  felicities  over 


HERE    AND   THERE.  249 

a  feast  at  Delmonico's,  (got  up  at  the  groom's  invita 
tion  and  expense,)  which  the  brother  "  Howadji"  has 
served  up  with  his  usual  daintiness  and  prettiness, 
in  "  Harper's  Weekly,"  where  Mr.  Potiphar  Curtis 
seems  to  have  taken  "  a  chair,"  and  thrown  off  his 
coat.  Mr.  Paul  Fane,  the  lord  of  Idlewildness,  and 
god  of  Young  Dimitydom,  also  "  assisted"  at  the 
epithalamium,  and  threatens  his  readers  with  all  the 
sweet  things  said,  sung,  and  eaten  on  the  occasion, 
in  his  next  "  issoo."  So  look  out  for  a  fancy  spread, 
touching  what  Curtis  so  classically  calls  the  "  nux 
.Telmonico,"  (which,  by  the  way,  sounds  a  little  too 
much  like  "nux  vomica.") 

Collins'  Adriatic  has  at  last  steamed  down  the 
bay  on  a  trial  trip,  with  the  owners,  builders,  and 
engineers  on  board,  to  inspect  her  operations.  She 
is,  beyond  all  question,  the  most  magnificent  ship 
afloat,  as  she  is  also  the  largest  and  the  costliest. 
The  botching  of  her  machinery  (in  experimenting 
with  newfangled  valves  and  notions)  has  cost  the 
company,  in  cash,  some  $150,000,  while  the  delay 
and  loss  of  business  have  almost  ruined  the  line. 
But  her  speed  will  be  watched  with  eager  interest, 
and  earnest  hope  that  the  Collins  flag  may  again  float 
in  triumph  over  the  Q,ueen  of  the  Sea.  Nous  ver- 
rons. 


250  BELLE    BRITTAN 

We  have  rumors  to-day  that  a  hard  currency  re 
commendation  will  be  one  of  the  leading  features  of 
Mr.  Buchanan's  forthcoming  message  ;  also,  that  Mr, 
Belmont  will  be  sent  as  Minister  to  Madrid,  for  the 
special  purpose  of  purchasing  Cuba  through  his 
financial  relations  with  the  Rothschilds.  It  is  said 
the  G-overnment  will  bid  $125,000,000  for  the  sac 
charine  island.  I  doubt  if  Spain  will  now  part  with 
the  jewel  for  double  that  sum.  Her  bonds  amount 
to  $750,000,000 ;  and  the  proceeds  of  Cuba  would 
not  be  very  likely  to  be  applied  towards  the  payment 
of  her  national  debt.  Still,  our  "  manifest  destiny" 
people  are  longing  for  the  possession  of  the  "  gem  of 
the  sea,"  and  if  not  bought  sooner  or  later  it  will  be 
stolen.  As  the  bold  Russian  said,  "  Take  ConstantU 
nople,  and  negotiate  afterwards ;"  so  the  refusal  of 
Spain  to  sell  us  Cuba,  may  provoke  the  filibuster  cry 
of — Take  it,  and  settle  the  cost  afterwards. 

The  new  tenor,  Bignardi,  at  the  Academy,  has 
made  a  decided  hit.  He  is  the  best  we  have  had 
since  Mario.  Next  week  Herr  Formes  will  appear  ; 
and  we  are  all  prepared  for  a  thundering  sensation. 
He  is  a  large,  athletic,  powerful-looking  man,  with 
lungs  like  a  steam  engine.  It  will  not  be  necessary 
to  go  within  half  a  mile  of  the  Academy,  to  catch 
the  deep  diapason  of  his  "  organ." 


HERE    AND    THERE.  .  251 

"  "What's  in  a  name !"  A  good  deal,  in  a  good  one, 
you  will  say,  on  learning  that  Peter  Parley  Goodrich, 
of  nursery  notoriety,  and  late  Consul  to  Paris,  has 
recovered  the  verdict  (if  not  the  cash)  of  eight  thou 
sand  dollars,  from  a  London  publisher,  for  taking 
liberties  with  his  nomme  dc  plume  !  Served  him  right. 


LETTER    No.    IX. 

NEW-YORK,       ) 
November  27,  1857.  \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

NEW-YORK  is  very  considerably  excited.  Everybody 
belongs  either  to  the  Wood  or  Anti-Wood  party.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  opposing  elements  are  warm  and 
active.  A  bet  was  made  yesterday  (on  the  result)  at  a 
little  dinner-party,  of  $2,000,  money  up.  The  ex 
citement  has  brought  out  many  of  our  old  and 
influential  citizens,  who  never  appeared  upon  the 
political  rostrum  before.  I  have  a  decided  conviction 
that  the  allied  forces  will  give  our  municipal  Napo 
leon  "  a  Waterloo  victory"  on  Tuesday  next. 

Politics  at  the  capital  of  the  nation  are  also 
growing  interesting.  The  Kansas  question  threatens 
to  split  the  democracy  into  the  old  and  radical  divi 
sions  of  North  and  South,  Gov.  Walker  leading 


252  BELLE    BR1TTAN 

off  as  the  champion  of  the  former,  and  the  "  Admin 
istration  party"  as  the  embodiment  of  the  latter. 
Mr.  Buchanan's  day  of  trial  has  come  ;  and  we 
shall  soon  see  whether  he  is  to  give  us  a  sectional  or 
a  national  administration.  Upon  either  horn  of  the 
dilemma  he  is  not  likely  to  have  a  very  tranquil 
time  of  it. 

The  doings  and  sufferings  on  "  Evacuation  Day" 
were  stupendous.  The  associations  of  the  celebra 
tion,  and  the  funeral  pageant  over  the  remains  of 
WORTH,  brought  a  more  numerous  multitude  into 
the  streets  than  I  have  ever  seen  on  any  occasion, 
not  even  excepting  the  pomps  and  shows  of  a  Kos- 
suth  reception  or  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration.  The 
day  was  extremely  icy,  yet  the  streets  were  thronged 
for  some  six  hours,  from  the  Park  to  Madison  Square. 
I  counted  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  noses, 
(more  or  less,)  of  all  sizes,  sexes  and  colors  (mostly 
red  or  purple),  on  the  sidewalks,  in  the  windows  and 
doorways,  and  piled  up  on  the  roofs  of  houses.  The 
military  looked  fine,  numbering  about  seven  thou 
sand  ;  while  the  curious  crowd,  and  the  great  army 
of  "  the  unemployed,"  who  have  nothing  to  do  but 
to  get  up  shows,  gaze  at  shows  (and  quelque  choses), 
made  humanity  look  cheap,  as  well  as  picturesque. 
The  "  catafalque,"  designed,  I  believe,  by  the  artist 


HERE    AND    THERE.  253 

CafFerty,  and  drawn  by  sixteen  white  horses  veiled 
in  black,  was  a  very  imposing  affair.  But  for  all  the 
details,  I  must  refer  you  to  the  indefatigable  reporters 
of  the  morning  press.  The  masonic  ceremonies  at  the 
tomb,  and  Mayor  Wood's  elegiac  address,  have  also 
been  handed  over  to  history  in  the  irrevocable  records 
of  the  newspapers.  The  whole  affair  made  a  grand 

show ;  but  it  cost  money  enough  to  give  a  pullet  to 

I 
every  one  of  our  fifty  thousand  beggars  for  a  week 

of  Thanksgiving. 

Among  the  literary  sumptuosities  of  the  season  I 
have  seen  nothing  handsomer  or  richer  than  Appleton's 
"  World- Noted  Women,"  and  Derby  &  Jackson's 
new  edition  (on  steel),  of  Dick  Tinto's  "  Court  of 
Napoleon.'"  The  latter  contains  an  additional 
"  beauty"  in  the  portrait  of  Miss  Patterson  of  Balti 
more,  who,  with  the  beautiful  Grace  Ingersoll  of 
Connecticut,  were  the  ruling  American  belles  at  the 
Court  of  the  great  Napoleon.  I  don't  know  how 
these  magnificences  in  the  shape  of  books  will  sell  in 
these  economizing  times ;  but  I  suppose  there  are 
always  a  thousand  or  two  who  can  afford  to  spend  a 
few  dollars  on  a  "  Christmas  present,"  and  not  feel 
the  poorer  for  it. 

The  Messrs.  Appleton  have  also  issued,  as  one  of. 
the  "  luxuries  of  the  season,"  a  superbly  illustrated 
13 


254  BELLE    BRITTAN 

edition  of  Bryant,  the  patriarch  of  American  poets, 
who  is  now  sunning  his  frosty  beard  and  wintry 
nature  somewhere  in  the  Southern  Orient.  Of  course 
you  have  received  it,  and  "  said  your  say"  of  it. 
But  have  you  looked  into  "  Young  America  in  Wall- 
street  ?  If  not,  let  me  commend  it  to  your  readers 
as  a  stimulant  when  they  feel  dull  and  dozy,  hut  not 
quite  sleepy.  It  is  like  reading  prophecies  in  the 

day  of  their  fulfillment. 

****** 

Banner's  "Ledger"  holds  its  own — a  weekly  issue 
of  330,000  copies,  and  no  humbug !  Bonner's  suc 
cess  is  truly  wonderful — phenomenal ;  and  he  is  now 
making  a  profit  of  ahout  two  thousand  dollars  a 
week,  after  having  paid  for  his  nine  steam  presses, 
which  he  runs  without  stopping,  night  and  day,  the 
Sahhath  only  excepted.  He  is  a  Connecticut  boy,  a 
graduate  of  the  Mirror  office,  and  one  of  the  shrewdest 
and  best  business  men  in  the  city.  He  keeps  entirely 
out  of  politics  and  speculation ;  utterly  free  from 
isms  ;  employs  the  best  writers  and  artists ;  prints 
on  the  whitest  of  paper  ;  and  spends  $75,000  a  year 
for  advertising. 


HERE   AND   THERE.  {255 

LETTER    No,    X, 

NEW-YORK,      \ 
October  19,  1857.  J 

MY  DEAR : 

***** 

OUR  rich  men,  who  pay  heavy  taxes,  are  strangely 
apathetic  in  regard  to  the  administration  of  our  mu 
nicipal  affairs.  They  have  not  only  trifled  with 
their  privileges,  but  neglected  their  duties  as  citi 
zens.  And  now  they  gee  these  "blood  and  bread" 
mobs  howling  through  the  streets,  threatening  to 
rob  the  vaults  of  the  banks ;  to  steal  the  funds  of 
the  government ;  and  to  make  a  descent  upon  the 
oyster-houses  and  restaurants,  while  the  "  author i« 
ties,"  the  demagogues  in  office,  dare  not  disperse 
them,  for  fear  of  periling  their  own  political  popu 
larity  with  the  ragged  ruffians,  whose  "votes  are  as 
good  as  any  man's !"  My  dear  — — ,  does  not  a  city 
of  a  million  of  miscellaneous  men  require  the  strong, 
quick,  absolute  arm  of  despotism  to  govern  it  ?  At 
all  events,  we  begin  to  feel  the  necessity  of  the  one- 
man  power  at  the  head  of  oar  city  ;  and  that  power 
must  be  vested  in  some  rare  Bayard — sans  peur,  sans 
reproche. 

I  fear  that  a  tuppenny  economy,  on  the  part  of 
the  Postmaster- Q-eneral,  will  disgrace  us  with  an 


256  BELLE    BRITTAN 

apology  for  a  post-office  edifice,  crowded  into  some 
corner  of  the  Park.  This  is  not  the  place  for  it,  and 
$250,000  is  not  a  sum  adequate  for  such  a  purpose. 
If  our  popular  and  energetic  Postmaster,  Fowler, 
were  at  the  head  of  the  department,  where  he  ought 
to  be,  and  where  he  will  be,  if  he  lives  four  years 
longer,  we  should  not  only  have  a  suitable  building, 
in  a  suitable  place,  but  a  reformed  system  of  admin* 
istering  the  entire  department,  with  a  cheap  Ocean 
Postage,  that  would  satisfy  our  people  and  benefit 
the  entire  world.  When  shall  we  see  our  cabinets 
composed  of  men  with  cosmopolitan  ideas,  and  not 
contracted  in  their  notions  by  the  littleness  of  the 
villages  from  which  they  sprung  ? 

Our  leading  theatres  are  doing  remarkably  well, 
They  put  forth  extra  attractions,  and  draw  excellent 
houses.  Charles  Matthews,  at  the  Broadway,  is  a 
perfect  trump.  Let  me  here  say  to  Mr.  Mark  Smith's 
numerous  friends  in  New-Orleans,  that  he  is  rapidly 
growing  in  excellence  and  favor.  There  are  few 
actors  on  the  stage  more  intelligent,  more  gentle 
manly,  or  more  -admired,  than  the  accomplished  son 
of  the  veteran  Sol.  His  Dominie  Samson,  in  "  Guy 
Mannering,"  was  "  pro-di-gous  !"  The  opera  is  fairly 
attended  ;  and  yet  Ullman  talks  blue  ;  says  it  don't 
pay,  and  has  proposed  a  reduction  of  salaries.  The 


HERE    AND    THERE.  257 

Sunday  evening  sacred  concerts  at  the  Academy  are 
popular — with  foreigners — and  look  profitable.  Our 
pious  people,  who  regard  religion  as  an  insurance 
against  fire  in  the  world  to  come,  turn  up  the  whites 
of  their  eyes  at  these  Sunday  entertainments.  No 
thing  will  do  for  them  hut  conference  meetings,  or 
tea-table  scandal.  But,  as  the  tipsy  deacon  said  to 
the  brother  deacon,  who  remonstrated  with  him,  "  I 
forgive  ye,"  so  let  us  not  be  too  hard  upon  the  unco 
guid,  who  denounce  all  amusement  as  sin,  not  sanc 
tioned  by  their  own  narrow  circle  and  bigoted  sect. 
***** 

The  new  adaptation  of  a  French  play,  by  the  two 
Franks  (Croodrich  and  "Warden),  called  the  "  Maiden 
Wife,"  has  made  a  hit.  Groodrich,  you  know,  is 
"  Dick  Tinto,"  a  son  of  "  Peter  Parley,"  and  the 
author  of  that  magnificent  work,  "The  Court  of 
Napoleon,"  brought  out  for  the  holidays  last  year  by 
Derby  &  Jackson.  He  is  a  clever  writer,  and  in 
high  social  standing — a  fact  which  helps  along  his 
dramatic  pieces  not  a  little. 

But  I  am  getting  beyond  my  limits  ;  and  will  only 
add,  that  nearly  all  the  newspapers  of  the  city  have 
published  Mr.  Woodman's  letter  in  regard  to  his 
unhappy  domestic  affairs,  and  the  popular  indigna 
tion  against  Furniss  has  risen  to  boiling  pitch;  in 


258  BELLE    BRITTAN 

fact,  almost  to  boiling  pitch  and  feathers.  For  his 
wretched  victim,  who  seems  to  have  been  "  weak  in 
the  upper  story,"  there  is  a  general  feeling  of  pity. 
I  choose  to  regard  her  errors  in  the  charitable  spirit 
of  the  poet,  rather  than  with  the  cold  censure  of  the 
Puritan : 

"  Oh,  gently  scan  your  brither  man, 

Still  gentlier  sister  woman  : 
We  all  hae  gane  a  kennin  wrang  ; 
To  step  aside  is  human." 


'LETTER     No.  XI. 

,1 


NEW- YORK, 
November  21,  1857. 


Mv  DEAR 


DROPPING  in,  yesterday,  at  the  St.  Nicholas,  I  met 
our  old  friend  Coleman,  now  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
that  immense  "  institution,"  and  was  not  a  little  sur 
prised  at  the  additions  recently  made  to  that  ever- 
expanding  hotel,  which  seems  to  be  continually 
spreading,  like  the  banyan  tree.  In  the  new  part  on 
Mercer-street,  there  is  a  large  reading-room,  lighted 
from  above ;  and  two  billiard  saloons,  with  fourteen 
first-class  tables — one  is  public,  and  the  other  is  for 
the  guests  of  the  house  only.  The  St.  Nicholas  has 


HERE    AND    THERE.  259 

now  about  six  hundred  rooms,  and  is,  I  believe,  the 
largest  hotel  in  the  world.  As  to  its  management, 
nnder  such  experienced  heads  as  Treadwell  and  Cole- 
man,  "it  is  not  necessary  that  I  write  unto  you." 
It's  praise  is  in  all  the  newspapers. 

But  in  less  than  a  year  from  this  we  shall  have 
the  new  Madison  Square  Hotel  to  talk  about ;  and 
if  the  owner,  Mr.  Eno,  can  induce  Monnot  and  Cran 
ston,  of  New- York  hotel  fame,  to  preside  over  it, 
we  shall  have  the  most  elegant  establishment  of  the 
kind  in  the  world.  But  Monnot  is  a  retired  gentle 
man  of  fortune,  and  Cranston  is  making  one  at  the 
rate  of  a  hundred  thousand  a  year.  So  I  fear  the 
new  hotel  will  go  into  less  fortunate  and  popular 
hands. 

At  the  French  Grallery  yesterday,  I  met  your  Jim 
Valentine,  who  was  of  course  delighted  with  Rosa 
Bonheur's  dog  and  cattle.  For  the  dog,  the  pro 
prietor  asks  one  thousand  dollars  ;  for  the  cattle  (three 
figures),  four  thousand;  for  Messonnier's  "Chess 
Player"  (very  small),  four  thousand ;  for  "  Reading  the 
Scriptures,"  by  Muller,  fifteen  hundred  ;  and  for  Ary 
Schaffar's  "  Christ,"  five  thousand  (the  living  original 
was  sold  for  thirty  of  the  smallest  pieces  of  silver) ! 
But  this  is  truly  a  great  picture.  It  is  Christ  on  the 
cross,  with  a  reed  in  his  hand,  the  mock  sceptre  ; 


260  BELLE    BRITTAW 

and  the  thorns  pressing  into  his  brow  with  painful 
reality.  In  removing  the  "  purple  robe"  (which  the 
painter  has  taken  the  liberty  of  making  red  for  the 
sake  of  the  contrast),  the  pale,  pure,  passionless 
figure  is  exposed,  with  a  terrible  life-likeness — almost 
death-likeness  of  color  and  expression.  The  sweet 
face  is  sad,  the  calm  brow  shaded  with  the  sins  and 
sufferings  of  humanity ;  but  the  charity,  the  seren 
ity,  the  love  of  the  Redeemer,  is  spread,  like  a  soft 
moonlight,  over  all ;  and  you  feel  at  once  the  divinity 
of  the  artist  and  his  subject.  It  is  a  glorious  pic 
ture  ;  the  most  exalted  "  Christ"  I  have  ever  seen  on 
canvas,  or  anywhere  else,  except  in  the  ideal  pioture- 
gallery  of  my  own  imagination. 

To  come  down  from  the  holy  Cross  of  inspired 
Art,  to  the  every-day  Cross  of  Reality,  the  burthen 
we  all  must  bear,  as  best  we  may  ;  sometimes  amid 
the  scoffs,  and  jeers,  and  cruelties  of  the  crowd,  al 
ways  with  sad  and  weary  footsteps,  and  bending 
beneath — 


" The  weight  of  care, 

That  presses  into  dumb  despair 
One-half  the  human  race — " 


How  is  it  this  cold  day  with  the  multitude  of  hun 
gry  beggars,  who  swarm  our  "  streets  of  palaces," 
and,  like  Lazarus  of  old,  supplicate  for  crumbs  at 


HERE    AND    THERE.  261 

rich  men's  doors  ?  What  is  to  be  done  for  them  ? 
The  hungry  horde  increases  ;  the  tide  of  poverty  is 
rising  higher  and  higher,  and  the  icy  winter  wind 
fills  the  shivering  poor  with  dangerous  discontent. 
In  the  meantime,  our  sleek,  fat,  and  fashionable 
"  Christians"  go  on  piling  up  palatial  churches  to 
the  "glory  of  God"  (and  themselves),  giving  the 
starving  poor  stones  instead  of  bread,  sermons  in 
stead  of  meat.  It  strikes  me,  an  unprejudiced  ad 
mirer  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  an  indepen 
dent  observer  of  the  ways  and  doings  of  the  reverend 
sermonizers  of  the  Fifth  Avenue,  that  if  Jesus  Christ 
should  revisit  us  to-day,  he  would  enter  these  cold 
and  costly  "  temples"  very  much  in  the  same  state 
of  indignation  and  disgust  that  he  displayed  in  the 
sordid  sanctuary  of  Jerusalem.  The  fact  is,  our 
modern  "  religion"  has  become  too  generally  a  for 
mality  and  a  farce — one  of  the  most  stupendous 
shams  and  swindles  of  the  age.  "VVe  want  a  new 
band  of  bold  "  Reformers"  in  the  Church,  in  the 
State,  and  in  Society.  The  sweet  charity  and  beau 
tiful  simplicity  of  primitive  Christianity  is  something 
we  read  of,  seldom  see.  But  such  reflections,  per 
haps,  are  not  only  unexpected,  but  out  of  place,  in 
the  columns  of  profane  journalism.  Asking  pardon 
of  the  "  pious"  reader  for  touching  sacred  things 
13* 


262  BELLE    BRITTAN 

with  secular  fingers,  I'll  say  no  more.  It  is  a  heresy 
worthy  of  the  stake,  to  hint  that  the  "  Church"  has 
become  an  institution  for  the  benefit  of  the  priest 
rather  than  of  the  people — so  mum's  the  word. 


LET  TER    No.    XII. 

NEW-YORK,          j 
November  10,  1857.  I 

MY  DEAR : 

SHALL  I  add  an  occasional  ray  or  two  to  your 
brightly  twinkling  beams  ?  Perhaps  you  may  think, 
in  glancing  towards  Gotham,  that  light  cannot  come 
out  of  darkness.  I  will  not  stop  to  argue  the  ques 
tion.  Our  city  affairs  are  just  now  in  a  somewhat 
chaotic  condition — financially,  commercially,  and 
politically.  The  currents  of  society  are  unusually 
disturbed,  agitated,  and  we  know  not  what  the  day 
may  bring  forth.  The  times  are  badly  out  of  joint 

— business  is  sadly  deranged. 

******  * 

This    is  not    exactly   the    truth   of   the   matter. 

F did  apply    last  Spring    for  the   situation, 

(attache  to  the  mission  at  the  Hague,)  and  stood 
a  good  chance  of  getting  it ;  in  fact,  it  was  counted 
a  sure  thing.  But  on  driving  his  dashing  tandem 


HERE    AND    THERE.  263 

team  over  to  Brooklyn  one  fine  Sunday,  to  make  a 
call  on  Mrs.  Murphy,  he  so  disgusted  that  accom 
plished  and  sensible  lady,  that  she  insisted  on  her 
husband's  prompt  repudiation  of  the  proposed  at 
tache.  The  thing  was  done,  and  the  honor  of  the 
country  saved. 

December  is  near,  and  with  it  comes  the  conven 
ing  of  Congress,  and  the  rush  to  the  political  capital 
of  the  nation.  "What  will  Congress  do?  Buy  Cuba, 
build  the  Pacific  Railroad,  pass  a  National  Bankrupt 
Act  to  wipe  out  sixteen  hundred  millions  of  mercan 
tile  debts  ;  and  with  the  bonds  issued  for  the  pur 
chase  of  the  saccharine  soil  of  Cuba,  and  to  build 
the  road  to  the  Pacific,  create  the  basis  of  a  bank 
that  will  give  us  a  currency  at  par  all  the  world 
over. 


LETTER    No.    XIII. 

NEW-YORK,  .       \ 
November  18,  1857.  ) 

MY  DEAR : 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

I  LEARN  that  "  The  Washington  Art  Association" 
is  about  to  open  its  exhibition  in  your  city.  Among 
the  pictures  contributed  by  our  New- York  artists  is 


264  BELLE    BRITTAN 

one  entitled  ••"  The  Gossips,"  by  Mrs.  Lily  M.  Spen 
cer.  This  production  will  attract  much  attention. 
It  is  not  only  a  popular  production,  but  has  merits 
which  will  challenge  the  respectful  consideration  of 
the  connoisseurs.  Mrs.  Spencer  is  a  young  woman 
(a  wife  and  a  mother)  of  varied  powers,  and  seeming 
equally  at  home  in  figures,  "still  life,"  and  animals. 
The  "  fruit  pieces"  from  her  hand  have  been  pro 
nounced  by  our  severest  critics  among  the  best  ever 
painted  in  this  country.  All  her  figure  compositions 
are  pervaded  by  a  quiet  humor,  which  seems  to  be 
her  leading  characteristic  in  expression  ;  though  her 
"  II  Penseroso."  painted  for  our  "  Cosmopolitan  Art 
Association,"  shows  her  to  be  equal  to  the  require 
ments  of  serious  composition.  This  last-named 
painting  is  one  of  the  finest  embodiments  of  the 
poet's  conception  that  we  have  seen.  Although 
English  born,  yet  few  artists  are  more  thoroughly 
American  than  this  lady,  in  feeling,  choice  of  sub 
ject,  and  delineation.  "  The  Gossips,"  above  re 
ferred  to,  will  prove  this.  "It  is  a  picture  over 
which  Hogarth  himself  would  have  dwelt  in  admira 
tion,"  as  one  of  our  eminent  connoisseurs  was  heard 
to  express  himself  while  looking  at  it.  Let  me  com 
mend  it  to  the  readers  of  the  Star,  to  the  members 
of  Congress,  and  to  the  editors  and  critics  of  the 


HERE   AND    THERE. 


265 


capital,  as  worthy  of  careful  notice  ;  and  the  fair  and 
gifted  artist  as  a  woman  worthy  of  generous  consid 
eration — a  lady  who  paints  with  one  hand,  and  holds 
her  baby  with  the  other.  The  picture  is  for  sale,  let 
me  remind  your  Corcorans,  your  Riggses,  and  other 
munificent  patrons  of  art ;  and  the  artist  has  four 
children  to  feed. 


LETTER     No.    XIV. 


NEW-YORK,          > 
December  2,   1857.  5 


MY  DEAR 


#  #  #  #  #  # 

MACKAY,  of  the  London  Illustrated  Neivs,  was  the 
star  of  the  evening  at  the  recent  anniversary  of  the 
St.  Andrew's  Society.  His  speech  was  the  only  one 
really  worth  reading  or  reporting.  I  could  not  help 
contrasting  the  intelligence,  the  soundness,  and  the 
originality  of  Mackay,  with  the  platitudes  and  inani 
ties  of  certain  official  "dignities,"  who  "speak  by 
the  card,"  on  these  fete  days  of  the  Saints.  But 
when  men  have  nothing  to  say,  all  they  can  do  is  to 
say  it.  The  bore  of  the  thing  is,  that  they  keep  re- 


266  BELLE    BRITTAN 

peating  it,  and  never  know  when  to  sit  down.  Let 
such  driveling  fogies  take  a  lesson  of  brevity  from 
the  British  general  who  captured  Scinde,  and  tele 
graphed  his  victory  in  a  word — "  Peccavi"  (I  have 
sinned). 

I  am  pained  to  notice  the  sudden  death  of  Mr.  N. 
R.  Stimson,  the  editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Day 
Book.  For  years,  he  used  to  abuse  me  occasion 
ally  ;  but  then  we  were,  personally,  strangers.  After 
making  his  acquaintance,  I  found  him  always 
friendly,  and  always  disposed  to  be  just,  and  even 
generous.  He  worked  hard  to  establish  and  build 
up  the  Day  Book,  and  succeeded  in  obtaining  for  it 
a  weekly  circulation  of  30,000  copies,  principally  in 
the  South ;  but  the  Daily  was  always  a  drag  upon 
his  brain  and  his  pocket,  and  congestion  of  the  heart 
was  the  result  of  constant  excitement  and  unrequited 
toil.  I  have  no  doubt,  if  the  disembodied  soul  passes 
immediately,  into  a  state  of  conscious  individual  exist 
ence,  that  our  departed  friend  is  now  rejoicing  (not  over 
the  defeat  of  Wood,  for  that  would  have  been  a  hard 
blow  to  him),  but  in  his  everlasting  release  from  all 
mundane  cares,  particularly  those  of  the  Day  Book. 
We  should  as  soon  mourn  over  the  transportation  of 
a  tired  horse  from  the  heavy  tread-mill  to  the  green 
pasture,  as  over  the  death  of  a  weary  journalist,  who 


HERE    AND    THERE.  267 

has  daily  woven  his  heart  and  brain  into  his  sheet 
(his  winding  sheet),  while  at  the  same  time  crushed 
with  the  business,  cares,  and  troubles  of  his  "  office." 
For  the  bereaved  wife  and  little  ones,  there  is  abun 
dant  call  for  sympathy  ;  for  the  departed,  we  can 
only  say — 

"  After  life's  fitful  fever 

He  sleeps  well.     *     * 

Nothing  can  touch  him  further." 

The  Journal  of  Commerce,  which  must  feel  badly 
after  the  defeat  of  its  candidate,  for  whom  it  so  zeal 
ously  labored,  notwithstanding  its  admission  that 
Mayor  Wood  was  not  exactly  a  model  merchant,  is 
piously  calling  on  its  business  readers  to  steal  awhile 
away  from  Wall-street  and  every  worldly  care,  and 
spend  an  hour  about  rnid-day  in  humble,  hopeful 
prayer,  in  the  Old  Dutch  Church,  corner  of  William 
and  Ann  streets  !  It  strikes  me  (who  am  no  better 
than  one  of  the  wicked)  that  this  is  decidedly  a  Peck- 
sniffian  dodge.  When  a  man  is  shinning  and  tear 
ing  round  for  money  to  pay  his  notes,  it  won't  help 
out  much  to  "supplicate  the  throne  of  grace"  with 
a  long  face  in  the  synagogue.  I  don't  know  what 
the  experience  of  your  readers  may  be,  but  I  have 
always  found  the  coldest,  cruelest,  and  most  inexora- 


268  BELLE    BRITTAN 

ble  persons  to  deal  with  among  that  class  of  public- 
praying  Pharisees,    who   make  a   "  show"   of  their 


religion. 


LETTER    No.    XV. 

NEW- YORK  HOTEL,          j 
December,  1857.  \ 
MY  DEAR  : 

IN  my  last  epistle  to  the  Athenians,  I  was  re- 
rejoicing  over  some  of  the  literary  sumptuosities  of 
the  season.  I  have  since  received  from  the  Messrs. 
Appleton  (princely  publishers  they  are)  a  magnifi 
cent  copy  of  Bryant,  printed  on  the  pearliest  of 
paper,  and  most  exquisitely  illustrated.  I  have 
never  been  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the  grave, 
cold,  and  somewhat  ascetic  author  of  "  Thanatopsis." 
He  is  as  chaste  and  as  pure  as  the  icicles  on  Dian's 
temple,  and  just  about  as  chilling.  Yet  he  is  se 
verely  orthodox  in  his  morality ;  and  still  more 
severely  artistic  in  his  verse.  His  marble  rhymes 
never  warm,  never  inspire  me ;  but  they  are  so  per 
fectly  chisseled,  that  I  yield  to  them  the  same  sort 
of  cold  admiration  one  feels  for  a  faultless  ideal 
statue  of  stone ;  not  the  glowing  ardor  excited  by 
the  living  reality  of  flesh  and  blood.  There  is  more 


HERE    AND    THERE.  269 

genuine  poetry  in  a  single  song  of  Burns,  or  in 
Longfellow's  "  Santa  Philomena,"  than  in  whole 
libraries  of  Thanatopsistine  sermons  in  blank  verse. 
But  Bryant  is  a  "standard  poet;"  and  I  must  not 
speak  depreciatingly  of  one,  for  whom  a  nich  is 
already  prepared  in  the  pantheon  of  the  American 
heart.  Appleton's  costly  edition  is  an  evidence  of 
the  high  estimation  in  which  the  patriarchal  poet  is 
held  ;  and  there  will  be  issued  few  "  Holiday  Books" 
more  acceptable  than  this. 

On  Saturday  there  was  a  day-performance  at 
Niblo's,  for  the  special  accommodation  of  nurses, 
children  and  invalids.  The  shouts  of  the  juveniles 
were  perfectly  exhilarating.  I  saw  Zanfretta,  the 
miraculous  rope-dancer,  for  the  first  time.  She  is 
young,  good-looking,  graceful,  wonderful ;  and  seems 
to  have  a  "  centre  of  gravity"  in  every  limb.  Of 
course,  she  draws  "  like  a  house  afire." 

I  have  just  been  reading  one  of  Dr.  Mackay's 
New-York  letters  to  the  Illustrated  London  News. 
He  says,  we  New- York  ladies  are  far  ahead  of  Lon 
don  and  Paris  in  our  spread  of  crinoline.  It  is  my 
private  opinion  that  we  are  making  a  little  too  big 
"  a  swell,"  and,  for  one,  I  am  determined  to  subside 
"  about  a  foot  or  so." 

***** 


270  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LET  TEE    No.    XVI. 

NEW-YORK, 
December  7,  1857. 
MY  DEAR  : 

"  THE  literary  "  lion"  of  the  hour  with  us  just  now 
is  Charles  Mackay,  LL.  D.,  the  poet-editor  of  the 
"  Illustrated  London  News."  He  is  making  a  six 
months'  visit  to  the  United  States  ;  writing  a  weekly 
letter  home,  and,  as  he  travels,  will  read  three  or 
four  lectures  on  Poetry  and  Song  in  the  principal 
cities  of  the  Union.  He  began  his  course  in  Boston, 
greatly  delighting  the  literati  of  that  most  intellec 
tual  city,  and  will  get  through  with  New- York  and 
Brooklyn,  this  week.  He  is  one  of  the  best  living 
poets  of  England — a  man  of  refined  taste  and  "  most 
excellent  fancy ;"  and  although  his  name  has  long 
been  familiar  to  American  ears,  as  a  sweet  singer  of 
the  "  Songs  of  Progress,"  yet  his  principal  produc 
tions  have  never  been  republished  in  this  country. 
His  "  Mug  of  Gold"  has  made  the  fortune  of  an 
eloquent  gentleman  who  has  been  reading  it  as  a 
public  literary  entertainment  in  England,  and  his 
"  May  Mary"  is  one  of  the  most  touching  ballads 
in  the  language.  It  reminds  one,  in  its  beautiful 
simplicity  and  charity,  of  Hood's  "  Bridge  of  Sighs" 
— that  blessed  evangel  to  the  despairing  Magdalens, 


HERE    AND    THERE.  271 

• 

whose  sins  and  sorrows  so  sadden  all  our  cities.  Like 
all  men  of  true  merit  and  genuine  genius.  Mackay  is 
a  remarkably  quiet,  unobtrusive  man,  and  not  at  all 
of  the  sort  to  make  what  is  vulgarly,  but  most  ex 
pressively,  called  a  "  splurge,"  in  the  literary  or  social 
world.  His  lectures  are  admirably  written,  but 
more  instructive,  perhaps,  than  entertaining.  They 
must  be  carefully  listened  to,  and  by  cultivated 
hearers,  to  be  fully  appreciated.  I  understand  Dr. 
Mackay  has  written  a  "  Romance"  in  blank  verse, 
which  he  has  been  invited  to  read  here  ;  and  I  have 
no  doubt  it  will  suit  the  popular  taste,  even  better 
than  his  chaste,  elegant,  and  analytical  lectures.  But 
I  believe  he  intends  to  visit  your  city  next  week, 
when  your  readers  should  not  neglect  hearing  and 
seeing  the  author  of  "  The  Good  Time  Coming" 
and  "  Cheer,  Boys,  Cheer  /"  As  a  veteran  journalist, 
who  was  "  on  the  London  Chronicle"  twenty-one 
years  ago,  when  Charles  Dickens  was  a  reporter  for 
the  same,  I  recommend  him  to  the  "  gentlemen  of 
the  press"  of  your  good  city,  as  a  poet,  a  scholar,  and 
an  editor,  eminently  worthy  of  a  cordial  reception  at 
their  brotherly  hands. 

The  Opera  here,  as  you  are  aware,  from  your  re 
cent  flying  visit,  is  doing  a  splendid  business,  and 
everybody  is  rejoicing  in  its  success.  The  average 


272  BELLE    BRITTAN 

receipts  are  about  $3,000  a  night,  an  encouraging 
evidence  that  a  good  thing  will  be  well  appreciated, 
and  liberally  rewarded,  even  in  the  tightest  of  times. 
Meyerbeer's  "  Robert"  is  magnificently  rendered  ; 
and  the  energetic  manager  and  his  excellent  artists 
are  deserving  of  the  highest  credit  for  their  expendi 
tures  and  exertions  to  please  the  public,  and  do  jus 
tice  to  the  composer.  Herr  Formes,  as  you  must 
have  been  convinced,  is  the  greatest,  best,  and  pro- 
foundest  basso  ever  heard  in  America. 


LETTER     No.     XVII. 

NEW- YORK, 
November  20,  1857. 
MY  DEAR : 

WHEN  a  woman  gets  something  pretty  she  can't 
help  talking  about  it.  Let  me  excite  a  little  envy 
(we  all  like  to  be  envied)  by  telling  you  what  beau- 
ful  presents  I  have  had  to-day.  I  say  presents,  for 
there  are  two  of  them  ;  blessings,  like  misfortunes, 
seldom  come  singly.  And  what  do  you  think  they 
are  ?  Not  rings,  nor  bracelets,  nor  dry  goods,  nor 
bonnets ;  but  BOOKS  ;  and  the  handsomest  and  most 
sumptuous  books  I  liave  ever  seen.  The  binding, 
the  printing,  the  engravings,  are  all  perfectly  magni- 


HERE  AND  THERE.  273 

ficent.  One  is  "  The  Court  of  Napoleon,"  from 
Derby  &  Jackson ;  and  the  other  "  World-Noted 
Women,"  from  Appleton's. 

The  former  you  may  have  seen,  as  a  small  edition 
was  published  last  year,  and  immediately  disposed 
of  at  twelve  dollars  a  copy  ;  but  before  a  second 
edition  could  be  issued  a  fire  destroyed  the  plates. 
The  new  edition  (only  one  thousand  are  to  be  printed) 
is  far  superior  to  the  first,  and  is  really  in  itself  a 
gem  of  art.  The  sketches  of  the  beautiful  women 
who  reigned  with  and  over  the  Great  Napoleon  are 
written  by  Frank  B.  Goodrich,  Esq.  (Dick  Tinto), 
the  talented  son  of  our  old  friend  "  Peter  Parley," 
whose  acquaintance  we  made  in  the  nursery.  "  Dick 
Tinto,"  by  the  way,  is  getting  to  be  quite  a  popular 
dramatist.  In  connection  with  Frank  Warden,  he 
has  brought  out  another  two  Frank  piece-,  "  The 
Maiden  Wife,"  which  is  drawing  fashionable  crowds 
at  "  Wallack  V  But  I  like  his  books  better  than 
his  plays  ;  and  to  speak  right  out  like  a  woman,  I 
am  perfectly  delighted  with  his  "  Court  of  Napo 
leon." 

My  other  feast  between  two  covers  is  equally  rich 
and  rare.  The  following  is  a  list  of  illustrations  : 
Sappho,  the  Greek  Poetess,  called  the  "  Tenth  Muse ;" 
Lucretia,  denominated  the  "Glory  of  Women;" 


274  BELLE   BRITTAPT 

Aspasia,  the  Love  of  Pericles  ;  Cleopatra,  the  Egyp 
tian  Queen  who  charmed  Marc  Anthony  ;  St.  Cecilia, 
the  Patroness  of  Music ;  Heloise,  "Wife  of  Abelard  ; 
Laura,  the  Beloved  of  Petrarch,  the  Italian  Poet ; 
Yalentina  of  Milan,  a  beautiful  and  accomplished 
Woman,  daughter  of  John  II.  of  France  ;  Joan  of 
Arc,  Maid  of  Orleans  ;  Margaret  of  Anjou,  Queen 
of  Navarre,  pronounced  by  Brantome  "  a  perfect 
beauty ;"  Isabella  of  Castile,  the  celebrated  Queen 
of  Spain  ;  Lady  Jane  Grey,  beheaded  at  seventeen 
years  of  age  ;  Pocahontas,  the  Heroic  Indian  Wo 
man,  the  first  Indian  convert  to  Christianity ; 
Duchess  de  la  Valliere,  a  lovely  woman  of  the  Court 
of  Louis  XIV;  Maria  Theresa,  Queen  of  Austria 
and  Hungary ;  Catharine  II.  of  Russia  ;  Florence 
Nightingale,  an  Angel  of  Q-oodness. 

The  biographical  sketches  are  from  the  accom 
plished  pen  of  Mary  Cowden  Clarke,  whose  "  Shaks- 
peare  Concordance"  has  made  her,  also,  one  of  the 
"  world-noted  women."  I  will  not  undertake  to 
describe  the  beauty  of  these  faces,  the  fineness  of 
the  engravings,  or  the  elegance  of  the  binding  ;  but 
only  hope  that  all  your  readers  (yourselves  included) 
may  be  treated  to  the  beautiful  treasures  I  have  men 
tioned,  between  now  and  New- Year's,  and  be  made 
as  happy  by  them  as  I  am. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  275 

The  first  fashionable  party  since  the  "  suspension" 
came  off'  last  evening.  It  was  a  regular  old-fash 
ioned  jam  ;  with  Monck's  band  to  supply  the  music, 
and  champagne  and  oysters  ad  infinitum  in  the 
supper-room.  The  ladies  were  beautiful,  brilliant, 
and  richly  dressed ;  looking  as  happy  as  children  just 
let  out  of  school.  It  was  really  like  a  carnival  after 
Lent ;  and — we  didn't  go  home  till  morning  ! 

But  one  of  the  most  remarkable  jams  of  the  season, 
in  quantity  and  quality,  was  at  the  Academy  of 
Music  yesterday,  where  we  had  the  third  of  a  series 
of  opera  'matinees.  Imagine  the  congregation  of 
three  or  four  thousand  women  and  children,  with 
here  and  there  one  of  our  opposites  sprinkled  in  ;  and 
listen  to  the  canary-like  chatter  and  twitter  between 
the  acts  !  "  Trovatore"  was  splendidly  performed  ; 
and  the  enthusiasm  was  unbounded.  But  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  that  there  is  trouble  among  the  artists  ;  and 
fear  the  doors  of  the  Academy  will  again  be  closed. 
The  manager  proposes  a  reduction  of  salaries;  La 
Grange  and  d'Angri  "come  down"  beautifully;  but 
the  subordinates  stick  out — like  beggars  who  com 
plain  of  starvation,  and  refuse  the  half  loaf  offered 
them.  If  the  opera  goes  on,  we  are  toliave  "  Ro 
bert,"  and  Herr  Formes  a  week  from  Monday.  He 
is  a  tremendous  basso  pro/undo.  If  the  wind  is  fair 
and  the  night  clear,  you  may  hear  him  in  Boston  ! 


276  BELLE    BR1TTAN 


LETTER    No.    XVIII. 

NlSW-YoRK,  \ 

December  21,  1857.  \ 

MY  DEAR  : 

NEW- YORK  is  brightening  up,  and  putting  on  its 
holiday  face.  The  fancy  shops  are  looking  spruce 
about  the  doors,  and  the  windows  are  filled  with  the 
usual  variety  of  comical  conceits.  Santa  Glaus  is 
the  reigning  deity  of  juvenility.  No  wonder  they 
think  him  the  first  and  best  of  "  saints."  The 
weather  is  wondrous  fine ;  while,  in  England,  it  has 
been  unusually  severe  since  the  middle  of  November. 
Our  "  out-of-door  poor"  need  not  shiver,  even  in  their 
rags. 

Dinner  parties  just  now  are  prevalent;  and  to 
morrow  the  New-Englanders  remember  their  ances 
tors,  at  the  Astor  and  the  Everett :  at  the  former,  with 
a  dinner  and  speeches ;  at  the  latter,  with  a  dance 
and  a  supper.  How  one  can  manage  to  "  do  justice" 
to  both,  and  "  assist"  at  the  grand  "  Poor  Ball"  at 
the  Academy,  is  a  rather  puzzling  question.  But 
we  shall  do  our  best,  and  the  reporters  will  do  the 
rest. 

I  suppose  the  oratorio  of  "  The  Creation"  was 
better  rendered  at  the  Academy,  on  Saturday  evening 


HERE    AND   THERE.  277 

last,  than  ever  before  in  America.  It  was,  in  every 
respect,  a  grand  success.  But  I  confess  that  I  do 
not  like  these  famous  oratorios.  They  attempt  too 
much ;  and  the  sublimity  of  the  music  often  treads 
upon  the  absurdity  of  the  idea.  The  conception  of 
the  Creation ;  the  story  of  the  Messiah — who  can  set 
them  to  music  ?  "Who  can  assume  the  role  of  the 
Father  or  of  the  Son  ?  There  is  blasphemy  in  the 
suggestion  ;  and  I  have  either  too  much  or  too  little 
veneration  to  appreciate  even  the  massive  master 
piece  of  the  great  Haydn. 

Our  New- York  millionaires  are  doing  big  things 
for  the  fine  arts.  Mr.  Belmont  has  brought  home  a 
gallery  of  rare  works  (now  on  exhibition  for  a  chari 
table  purpose),  among  which  are  some  of  the  finest 
productions  of  Paul  Delaroche,  Horace  Yernet,  Rob 
ert  Fleury,  Meissonnier,  Chavet,  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Charles  Louis  Muller,  Grallett,  Leys,  Zoyon,  Yerlat, 
Leopold  Robert,  Theodore  Rousseau,  Trayer,  Louis 
Meyer,  De  Brackleer,  Shelfhout  and  Ommeganck. 
And  Mr.W.  H.  Aspinwall  has  sent  home  a  magnificent 
Murillo  (the  Immaculate  Conception),  a  reproduc 
tion,  on  a  smaller  scale,  of  the  picture  for  which  the 
French  government  paid  Marshal  Soult  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  thousand  dollars.  Mr.  Aspinwall's 
cost  thirty  thousand.  He  is  having  two  large  gal- 

13 


278  BELLE    BRITTAN 

leries  built  in  the  rear  of  his  house,  and  intends  to 
fill  them  both,  one  with  ancient,  and  the  other  with 

modern  paintings,  during  his  sojourn  in  Europe. 

*  #  #  #  # 

.The  frequenters  of  our  theatres  may  be  congratu 
lated  on  the  appearance  of  a  new  star  at  Wallack's, 
in  that  loveliest  of  all  shapes — a  handsome  woman. 
Beauty  upon  the  stage  is  so  exceedingly  rare,  that 
it  affords  one  something  more  than  artistic  pleasure 
to  see  a  fine  specimen  of  living  statuary  gracefully 
undulating  before  the  foot-lights.  Mrs.  John  "Wood 
possesses  many  of  the  rarest  requisites  of  a  great 
actress.  She  has  a  figure  satisfactory  to  the  most 
fastidious  eye ;  a  remarkably  sculpturesque  bust ; 
beautifully  rounded  arms,  with  dimples  at  the  el 
bows  ;  dainty  "  determinations  downwards ;"  hair 
abundant,  and  as  black  as  the  raven's  wing;  eyes 
a  little  blacker ;  a  rich,  creamy  complexion ;  lips 
cherry-ripe  and  sensuous ;  an  Anna  Bishop  style*  of 
nose,  slightly  uppish,  with  nostrils  expanded  and  spir 
ited  ;  teeth  as  white  and  as  regular  as  the  rows  upon 
an  ear  of  Indian  corn ;  a  voice  of  rare  richness  and 
flexibility  ;  and  an  altog-etherness  of  person  and  man 
ner  that  is  decidedly  taking. 

In  Walcott's  ludicrous  burlesque  of  "  Hiawatha," 
she  is  the  life  and  soul  of  the  play  ;  singing,  dancing, 


HERE    AND    THERE.  279 

talking,  acting,  running  races,  and  running  mad 
with  the  most  bewitching  abandon.  In  the  doleful 
ditty,  where  she  laments  the  suspicious  absence  of 
her  sailor-lover,  "  only  nineteen  years  old,"  Mrs. 
Wood  brought  down  the  house.  Excepting  Burton's 
"  Villikins  and  his  Dinah,"  it  is  the  most  "  effective" 
exhibition  of  the  melancholy-comic  humor  we  have 
witnessed  for  many  a  year.  I  have  but  one  criticism 
to  make  on  Mrs.  Wood's  toilette ;  and  that  I  will 
but  gently  touch,  and  hand  the  subject  over  to  Dib- 
blee,  who  has  had  La  Grange's  tresses  in  training 
for  the  last  year.  I  allude  to  her  peculiar  style  of 
wearing  her  hair.  It  is  neither  artistic  nor  becom 
ing  ;  but  it  seems  to  be  a  chronic  habit  with  her  — 
as  it  is  "  stuck  up"  in  the  same  way,  and  stereo 
typed  in  her  portraits  in  the  shop-windows  ;  a  pic 
ture,  by  the  way,  which  is  by  no  means  flattering, 
especially  about  the  eyes,  which  are  represented  as 
small,  sleepy,  and  orientally  indolent,  whereas  in 
the  original  they  are,  "  on  the  contrary,  quite  the 
reverse." 


280  BELLE    BR1TTAH 


LETTER    No.    XIX. 

NEW- YORK,        t 
December  16,  1857.  f 

MY  DEAR  •    •  •• ; 

BY  kind  permission  of  the  Boston  Transcript  (as 
theatrical  stars  say  when  they  pay  their  managers  an 
"  L"  for  allowing  them  to  play  elsewhere  for  a  "  C") 
I  shall  be  most  happy  to  sun  my  feathers  occasionally 
in  the  genial  eyes  of  your  P/culiar  readers.  Of 
course  they  will  not  expect  politics,  or  business,  any 
thing  but  a  sort  of  rattling  Belle-letter  from  me,  who 
seldom  see  Wall-street,  never  enter  Tammany  Hall, 
and  always  skip  the  doings  and  misdoings  in  Congress. 
But  I  sometimes  take  a  stroll  down  Broadway,  a 
drive  on  the  Avenue,  make  and  receive  any  number 
of  "  reception-calls,"  always  go  to  the  opera,  and 
occasionally  to  church.  So  you  may  be  pretty  suro 
I  am  well  posted  in  the  fashions  and  frivolities,  the 
fun  and  the  philosophy  of  all  that's  going  on  in  the 
social  hemisphere  above  the  demi-monde. 

Just  now  we  are  all  talking  of  and  preparing  for 
the  "  Grand  Charity  Ball,"  to  be  given  at  the  Acad 
emy  on  the  22d  inst.  I  am  a  little  sorry  that  it 
comes  off  on  that  day,  as  I  have  been  counting  on 
listening  kto  (behind  the  scene)  the  New-England 


HERE  AND  THERE. 


281 


Dinner  speeches,  at  the  Astor  House.  I  liko  to  see 
two  hundred  and  fifty  jolly  Yankees  smoking,  drink 
ing,  singing,  and  spouting  to  the  glorification  of 
their  forefathers,  foremothers,  and  themselves !  But 
I  cannot  forego  the  ball.  There  fashion  and  charity 
meet  and  kiss  each  other  ;  and  dance  all  night  to 
the  music  of  Dodworth,  and  to  the  tune  of  $8,000 
to  $10,000,  for  the  "  Woman's  Asylum."  Besides, 
we  can  read  the  New-England  speeches  in  the  next 
day's  papers ;  but  the  sayings  and  doings  at  the 
Academy  can  never  be  fully  reported. 

There  has  been  an  effort  on  the  part  of  one  of  the 
morning  papers  to  make  the  "  Charity  Ball"  a.  fiasco  ; 
but  the  "  bearing,"  to  borrow  a  Wall-street  word 
from  brother  Bob,  has  produced  a  decidedly  favora 
ble  reaction.  There  will  be  about  five  thousand 
tickets  sold,  at  two  dollars  each,  and  the  expenses 
will  not  exceed  two  thousand.  Again,  it  will  give 
employment  to  an  army  of  dress-makers,  who  are 
suffering  for  want  of  occupation ;  while  dealers  in 
gloves,  flowers,  dry  goods,  &c.,  will  be  largely  bene 
fited  by  the  preparation  disbursements. 

But  this  noble  charity,  this  "  Asylum  for  Women," 
which  appeals  to  our  better  sympathies  in  this  invi 
tation  to  a  beautiful  festival — do  the  public  know 
what  it  is  ?  Have  these  gay  and  generous  young 


282  BELLE    BRITTAN 

gentlemen,  who  are  so  actively  engaged  in  selling 
tickets,  paused  to  consider  what  miseries  will  be 
mitigated,  what  sufferings  relieved,  what  lives,  if 
not  souls,  saved  by  the  beds,  the  homes,  the  nursings 
and  the  comfortings  provided  by  these  blessed  chari 
ties  ?  Perhaps  not ;  but  a  good  deed,  even  thought 
lessly  done,  never  goes  unrewarded.  Our  city, 
especially  at  this  inclement  season,  is  full  of  suffer 
ing  ;  and  the  deepest  grief,  and  the  keenest  pangs, 
are  always  borne  in  silence.  The  raggedest,  the 
wretchedest  beggar  never  appears  in  the  streets  ;  but 
starves  and  dies  unseen,  unheard,  in  his  garret  or 
cellar.  And  so  with  the  poor  woman,  the  victim  of 
poverty  and  wrong ;  diseased  in  body,  blighted  in 
soul,  she  does  not  always,  nor  even  usually,  flaunt 
her  distress  in  the  public  eye.  In  proportion  to  her 
sensitiveness  and  shame,  is  the  poignancy  of  her  grief, 
and  the  silence  of  despair.  The  midnight  moans 
that  pain  the  ear  of  heaven  are  never  heard  by  the 
lodger  in  the  next  room  ;  and  the  scalding  tear,  that 
touches  the  heart  of  Grod,  never  falls  on  a  human 
bosom — is  never  seen  by  a  human  eye.  It  is  for  these 
mute  sufferers,  these  weeping,  these  love-wrecked 
Magdalens,  who  are  longing  to  wash  some  saviour's 
feet  with  tears,  that  our  "  "Woman's  Asylum"  opens 
its  doors  of  hope  and  salvation.  How  can  any  man, 


HERE    AND   THERE.  283 

with  half  a  heart,  turn  his  hack  or  "  throw  cold 
water"  on  a  charity  like  this  ? 

Last  evening  I  found  myself  in  a  "  novel  situa 
tion" — dining  on  hoard  a  yacht,  with  a  party  of 
gentlemen  from  the  New- York  Hotel,  including  my 
excellent  friend  and  host,  Cranston,  who  most  gal 
lantly  chaperoned  your. "fair  correspondent"  to  and 
from  the  place  where  she  lay — the  yacht  Wanderer, 
one  of  the  largest  and  finest  ever  built.  She  belongs 
to  that  princely  gentleman,  Col.  John  Johnson,  who 
is  about  to  depart  in  her,  with  a  select  party  of 
friends,  for  a  three -months'  pleasure  trip  to  the 
Sunny  South ;  and  I  suppose,  in  about  thirty  days, 
you  will  hail  the  "Wanderer  with  three  cheers  and  a 
great  gun  in  the  "  Crescent  City."  She  is  of  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  tons,  and  perfect  in  all  her 
appointments.  Her  berths  are  broad  beds,  and  her 
settees  luxurious  lounges.  The  dinner  yesterday 
was  sumptuous,  even  to  the  dainty  tastes  accus 
tomed  to  New- York  Hotel  fare.  It  consisted  mainly 
of  oyster  soup,  terrapin,  filet  de  baeuf,  canvas  backs, 
roasted  andT)roiled  (the  broiled  for  me,  if  you  please), 
champagne,  sherry,  coffee,  cigars,  eau  de  vie,  and — 
poker  !  How  I  would  like  to  embark  in  the  beauti 
ful  Wanderer,  on  her  southerly  voyage,  in  such  com 
pany,  with  only  one  more,  whom  it  would  be  a  pro- 


284  BELLE    BRITTAIf 

fanation  to  name.  Alas !  that  we  should  always  be 
sighing  for  that  "  one  more,"  for  the  sweet  com 
panionship  of  "  the  love  that  Fate  forbids  "  to  us — 
"  poor  wanderers  on  life's  stormy  sea !" 

I  have  just  been  reading  a  book  that  is  really 
more  charming  than  a  novel.  It  is  the  "Life  of 
Aaron  Burr,"  written  by  Jim  Parton — Fanny  Fern's 
"  Jim."  The  subject  of  the  volume  is  fascinating, 
if  not  heoric  ;  and  the  biographer  has  shown  him  up 
con  amore.  Burr  has  always  had  the  reputation 
of  being  irresistible  among  the  weaker-minded — 
stronger-passioned  sex.  Some  men  seem  to  be 
fatally  gifted  with  a  sort  of  magnetism  that  takes 
right  hold  of  us  ;  and  we  can  no  more  get  away  from 
it  than  a  falling  apple  can  overcome  the  law  of 
gravitation.  "We  all,  I  suppose,  must  fall,  like  "  our 
first  parents,"  when  the  hour  of  our  temptation 
comes.  It  comes  to  woman  only,  with  infinite  love 
and  infinite  trust.  Alas !  that  such  reliance  should 
so  often  and  so  fatally  fail.  Burr  was  a  handsome 
man,  with  a  bright  intellect,  a  •  glittering  eye,  and 
electric  passions.  His  love  for  his  lovely  daughter, 
Theodosia,  and  hers  for  him,  is  one  of  the  rarest 
romances  in  history.  There  is  a  passion  in  her  de 
votion  which  quite  puzzles  me.  But  perhaps  I  have 
yet  to  learn  what  it  is,  at  once,  to  love  and  venerate 
the  same  being — a  homage  worthy  of  a  God. 


HERE    AND    THERE. 


285 


P.  S. — If  my  letter  is  a  little  too  sombre,  it  is 
because  the  day  is  cloudy,  and  the  "Wanderer," 
like  a  departed  joy,  is  occasionally  sailing  into  my 
memory. 


LETTER    No.   XX. 

NEW- YORK  HOTEL,      \ 
NEW-YORK,  Dec.  23,  1857.  £ 
MY  DEAR : 

LAST  night's  sayings,  doings,  seeiugs,  and  feelings, 
furnish  an  abundance  of  "  raw  material"  to  weave 
into  a  "  yarn"  as  long  as  from  this  to  New-Orleans  ; 
but  after  spinning  through  two  grand  balls,  immedi 
ately  following  a  two  hour  dinner  session,  one 
scarcely  feels  like  spinning  through  a  newspaper  col 
umn.  But  my  promise  is  made,  and  we  women 
always  keep  our  words — when  we  can !  And  no 
finite  being  can  do  more  than  that.  (Bunsby  !) 

To  begin  with  the  "  Pilgrim  Dinner,"  the  cele 
bration  of  the  237th  anniversary  of  the  landing 
of  the  Puritans  at  Plymouth.  The  glorification 
was  complete.  The  tables  were  crowded.  G-eneral 
Stetson  and  his  aids  even  found  difficulty  in  find 
ing  room  for  all  who  venerated  their  ancestors  to  the 
tune  of  seven  dollars  a  plate.  It  was  a  fine  sight  to 
one  who  looked  on  from  "  behind  the  arras."  The  fa- 


286  BELLE    BRITTAIf 

mous  banquet  hall  of  the  "  Astor"  was  lighted  a  g-ior- 
no,  as  we  say  in  Italy.  The  long  lines  of  tables  laughed 
(not  "groaned")  beneath  their  cornucopious burthens. 
And  when  the  two  hundred  and  fifty  handsome  New 
England  heads  entered  the  room,  animated  by  the 
music  of  Dodworth's  band,  and  the  cheering  prospect 
so  bountifully  and  beautifully  spread  before  them,  I 
declare  I  ,never  saw  a  finer-looking  body  of  men — 
broad-fronted,  bright-eyed,  and  remarkably  erect 
gentlemen.  The  "House  of  Representatives"  at 
Washington  makes  a  poor  show,  in  point  of  manly, 
intellectual,  energetic  force,  compared  with  this  con 
gress  of  active,  educated,  go-a-head  New  England- 
ers.  And  here  are  the  merchants,  the  journalists,  the 
authors,  and,  the  orators,  whose  names  are  known, 
and  whose  influence  is  felt,  wherever  civilization  has 
gone.  We  can  hardly  say  as  much  of  the  "body  of 
members"  who  tinker  at  law-making  at  Washing 
ton. 

The  after-dinner  speeches  were  all  too  long — the 
universal  fault.  Why  don't  they  adopt  the  five- 
minute  rule  ?  And,  why  don't  the  speakers  study 
the  art  of  condensation,  and  give  us  acres  of  roses  in  a 
drop  of  altar  ?  Mr.  William  M.  Evarts.  a  man  of  in 
tellect,  "all  compact,"  gave  us  a  learned,  statesman 
like,  yet  heavy  dissertation  on  the  theory  of  govern 
ment  in  general,  and  the  government  of  Kansas  in 


HERE    AND    THERE.  287 

particular ;  and  the  Rev.  Henry  Ward  Beecher 
"  spread  himself"  upon  the  New-England  clergy. 
Mr.  Beecher  spoke  louder,  and  perspired  more  than 
any  other  speaker  of  the  evening ;  but  the  most 
memorable  thing  that  fell  from  his  lips,  was  a  dogma 
to  which  I  cannot  subscribe.  In  vindicating  the  pro 
priety  of  discussing  secular  themes  in  the  pulpit,  he 
said  that,  "as  a  child,  passing  through  the  baptismal 
fount,  came  out  pure  and  sacred,  so  any  topic  intro 
duced  into  the  pulpit  became  thereby  consecrated." 

The  "  Press"  at  the  New  England  Dinner  was  sea 
sonably  toasted,  and  well  represented  by  the  veteran 
Gen.  Webb,  of  the  Courier  and  Enquirer,  a  noble- 
looking  man,  upon  whose  large  head  the  "  almond 
tree"  is  in  full  blossom.  But  where  were  the  rest  of 
the  leading  journalists  of  the  city,  who  are  all,  with 
one  single  exception,  men  of  New  England  origin  ? 
Where  were  Grreeley,  Brooks,  Bryant,  Halleck,  Ray 
mond,  and  Fuller  ?  At  the  grand  ';  Poor  Ball,"  at  the 
Academy,  I  suppose  ;  so,  after  listening  a  moment 
to  "  Young  America,"  we  will  look  in  there,  too. 

When  the  tedious  routine  of  the  "  regular  toasts" 
had  been  gone  through  with — always  more  or  less  of 
a  martyrdom — the  President,  fixing  his  eye  on  a  re 
markably  handsome  Byronic-looking  young  gentle 
man,  proposed  a  "  sentiment"  containing  some  face 
tious  allusion  to  "the  Train — the  fast  Train,"  re* 


288  BELLE    BRITTAN 

cently  arrived  after  a  five  years'  run  of  a  hundred  and 
sixty  thousand  miles.  The  "  party  alluded  to,"  as 
Mrs.  Partington  says,  promptly  sprung  to  his  feet, 
and  opened  a  rattle  of  musketry  of  hard  names  that 
was  "  perfectly  stunning."  In  about  five  minutes 
this  "lightning  Train"  took  us  around  the  globe, 
stopping  at  every  place  worth  seeing  ;  and  at  every 
place  showing  us  a  live  Yankee  as  the  leading  man 
of  the  town.  It  was  a  brilliant  scintillation ;  but  as 
utterly  unreportable  as  the  flitting  exhibitions  of  the 
aurora  borealis.  (reorge  Francis  Train — the  repre 
sentative,  as  well  as  the  author  of  "  Young 
America,"  is  a  phenomenal  man. 

The  ball  at  the  Academy  was  a  brilliant  affair. 
Some  four  thousand  tickets  were  sold  at  $2  each, 
and  the  expenses  only  about  $2,000,  leaving  some 
$(3,000  for  the  Poor  "Woman's  Hospital.  There  was 
a  rare  and  radiant  mingling  of  all  classes,  from  the 
fresh  tulips  of  the  Bowery  to  the  pale  japonicas  of 
the  Fifth  Avenue.  But  the  "  combination  of  colors" 
and  forms  and  odors  produced  no  offence  or  discord. 
The  scene,  although  kaleidoscopic,  was  smiling  and 
joyous  upon  the  surface,  whatever  may  have  been 
the  secret  bitterness  or  darkness  of  that  hidden  cur 
rent  alluded  to  by  the  poet — 

"  How  oft  the  laughiog  brow  of  joy 
A  sickening  heart  conceals  " 


HERE    AND    THERE.  289 

"  Who  was  the  belle  ?"  Do  you  ask  ?  To  this 
question  there  would  be  as  many  different  responses 
as  there  were  present  beaux,  as  every  lady  probably 
had  a  special  admirer  at  her  side,  or  more  modestly 
worshiping1  her  beauty  at  a  "respectful  distance" 
The  dresses,  as  a  general  rule,  were  exceedingly 
tasteful,  and  seldom  extravagant ;  while  bare  arms 
and  bare  busts  were  evidently  not  considered  bon  ton. 
But  at  private  parties,  I  confess  that  we  are  some 
what  less  chary  of  our  "  beauty  spots."  A  private 
entertainment,  however,  is  one  thing,  but  a  public 
exhibition  is  quite  another. 

As  my  gallant  companion  was  determined  to 
"  show  me  round,"  I  was  compelled  to  leave  the 
Academy  at  the  early  hour  of  two,  and  go  to  the  ball 
at  the  "  Everett,"  where  the  young  New  England  As 
sociation  wound  up  the  exercises  of  the  day  at  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Seeing  only  the  ravel 
led  (or  revelled)  end  of  the  Everett  House  festival,  I 
cannot  speak  of  it  except  as  a  lady  with  a  "  sweet 
little  foot,"  viz. :  "  All's  well  that  ends  well."  And 
•now,  with  the  "  ancient  mariner's"  longing  for  sleep, 
the  "gentle  thing  beloved  from  pole  to  pole,"  I 
must  close  my  eyes  and  this  together. 


290  BELLE    BRITTAH 


LETTER    No.    XXI. 

NEW-YORK,  > 

April  6,  1858.  5 

MY  DEAR  : 

FOURTEEN  weeks  of  absence  from  this  noisy,  rest 
less,  surging  sea  of  a  city,  afford  time  enough  for 
many  changes.  It  was  winter  then,  and  a  De 
cember  snow-storm  accompanied  us  from  New- 
York  to  Washington.  It  was  the  day  after  Christ 
mas  ;  and  our  party  of  three  (Mackay,  "  Young 
America,"  and  I),  were  wrapt  in  shawls,  and  in 
dreamy  reminiscences  of  the  gatherings,  the  part 
ings,  and  the  festivities  of  that  most  hallowed  and 
gracious  season  of  blessings  and  benedictions.  Now, 
it  is  spring  ;  and  the  warm  April  sunshine  and  show 
ers  alternate  as  fitfully,  and  as  innocuously  as  the 
gushing  smiles  and  tears  upon  the  face  of  childhood. 
Then,  the  commercial  panic,  the  suspended  banks, 
and  the  sufferings  and  threatenings  of  the  unem 
ployed  poor,  were  the  ruling  topics  of  the  hour. 
Now,  it  is  religious  revivals  ;  the  bal  masque,  and 
the  Musard  concerts  at  the  Academy.  The  season 
has  changed ;  business  Jias  ^changed ;  pleasure  has 
changed  ;  and  the  fashions  have  changed.  But  there 
have  been  sadder  changes  than  these.  There  are 


HERE    AND   THERE.  291 

missing  faces,  young  and  old,  fair  and  noble,  that  I 
meet  no  more.  The  young  bride,  whose  brilliant 
nuptials  gave. us  a  holiday  but  a  few  months  since, 
making  a  whole  neighborhood  glad  in  sympathy  with 
her  joy,  has  vanished  like  a  beautiful  flower,  cut 
down  with  the  dew  of  the  morning  on  its  cheek. 

"  Day  dawned — within  a  curtained  room, 
Filled  to  faintness  with  perfume, 
A  lady  lay  at  point  of  doom. 
Morn  broke — an  infant  saw  the  light ; 
But  for  the  lady,  fair  and  bright, 
She  slumbered  in  undreaming  night !" 

And  children,  too,  the  sweetest  little  buds  upon  the 
Tree  of  life,  have  perished  by  "death's  untimely 
frost,"  and  childless  fathers  and  mothers  have 
grasped  my  hands  with  tearful  eyes  and  speechless 
tongues.  Of  other  changes — and  there  are  always 
changes  still  sadder  than  death — from  health  into 
sickness — from  wealth  into  poverty — from  innocence 
into  sin — from  virtue  into  vice — from  love  into  indif 
ference — I  dare  not  write,  nor  even  think. 

Touching  this  religious  excitement,  like  the  rag 
ing  of  an  epidemic,  the  people  in  the  country  hear 
more  about  it  than  we  do  in  the  city.  I  do  not  per 
ceive  that  the  places  of  amusement  are  any  less 
crowded,  or  that  Broadway  wears  a  less  gay  aspect 
than  usual.  It  would  be  a  very  delightful  thing  to 


292  BELLE    BRITTAN 

find  the  spirit  of  Christ,  as  exemplified  in  his  "  Ser 
mon  on  the  Mount,"  and  in  all  his  benignant  words 
and  works,  serenely  beaming  from  every  human  face 
we  meet.  But  where  there  is  one  gentle,  loving 
face  on  which  is  legibly  written,  "  I  want  religion" 
1  see  a  thousand  hard,  metallic  countenances  on 
which  are  graven,  in  deep  lines  of  corrugated  care, 
"  I want  money" 

There  is  no  doubt  that  people,  in  moments  of  se 
rious  reflection,  suddenly  open  their  eyes,  like  Saul 
on  his  way  to  Damascus,  to  the  errors  and  follies  of 
their  lives.  But  the  general  rule  is,  that  the  mur 
derer  of  yesterday  cannot  really  be  thus  suddenly 
*  transformed  into  the  saint  of  to-day  ;  that  a  good 
character  is  of  gradual  growth  ;  that  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  is  not  taken  by  violence. 

And  yet,  if  these  prayer-gatherings  and  praise- 
shoutings  make  men  better  natured,  better  mannered, 
better  hearted,  let  them  pray  on.  If  they  bring 
more  of  the  common  sunshine  of  human  sympathy 
into  their  hearts  and  homes,  let  them  pray  on.  If 
they  make  better  citizens,  truer  husbands,  gentler 
wives,  and  more  affectionate  brothers,  sisters,  and 
friends,  pray  let  them  pray  on.  But  if  I  remember 
rightly,  the  only  two  public  prayers  ever  uttered  by 
the  Author  of  Christianity  were  exceedingly  brief 


HERE    AND   THERE.  293 

and  comprehensive:  "  Our  Father  which  art  in 
Heaven,"  and  "  Father  forgive  them  ;"  while  it  was 
his  words  of  kindness  and  his  works  of  benevolence 
that  were  numerous ;  from  which  some  may  well 
take  the  hint,  to  pray  less  and  do  more. 

From  the  prayer- meeting  to  the  gay  and  fashion 
able  world.  As  I  have  already  stated,  the  forthcom 
ing  grand  masked  ball  at  the  Academy  of  Music  is  a 
prominent  theme  of  discussion.  And  there  are  very 
decidedly  two  sides  to  the  question.  The  pious  por 
tion  of  the  community  is  shocked  at  the  audacity  of 
"  the  indefatigable  Ullman,"  in  attempting  to  im 
port  an  entertainment  so  entirely  French,  and  so  ut 
terly  foreign  to  our  social  organism  ;  and  I  am  in 
clined  to  think  the  more  tonnish  of  the  fashionable 
world  will  also  set  their  faces  against  the  mask.  Ac 
cording  to  the  programme,  only  ladies  can  appear  in 
cog.,  giving  them  a  most  unfair  advantage  over  the 
gentlemen.  And  no  lady  can  be  admitted  unless  ac 
companied  by  a  gentleman,  who,  of  course,  must  be 
responsible  for  her  respectability.  I  anticipate,  there 
fore,  a  very  proper,  and  a  very  tame  affair.  But 
still,  your  "fair  correspondent"  proposes  to  be 
there,  and,  may  be,  she  will  bother  the  black  coats 
as  much  as  she  has  some  of  your  readers. 

The  opera  has  closed,  and  the  manager  comes  out 


BELLE    BRITTAtf 


sixteen  thousand  dollars  ahead.  *  *  *  * 
Fry's  "  Leonora"  was  played  two  nights  to  fair 
Blouses,  and  was  much  applauded.  The  melodies  are 
very  sweet ;  the  instrumentalism  enthusiastic  and 
massive.  As  the  first  great  work  of  an  American 
composer,  it  should  have  had  a  run ;  and  Fry  should 
have  been  crowned  with  gold.  But  he  will  have  a 
handsome  monument  after  he  is  dead.  The  world  is 
too  jealous  of  cotemporaneous  genius  to  do  much  for 
the  living.  Its  greatest  and  best  men  have  been 
starved,  neglected,  and  ill-treated.  What's  the  use 
of  being  great  and  good  ?  It  don't  pay  here  ! 

The  spring  fashions  are  gay,  and  crinoline  is  still 
exuberant ;  although  slightly  subsiding  in  the  Fifth 
Avenue.  The  broadest  skirts,  now,  emerge  from 
equivocal  localities.  The  bonnets  are  little  beauties, 
but  fearfully  costly,  increasing  in  price  as  they  dim 
mish  in  size.  To  maintain  the  first  position  in  the 
ranks  of  extravagance,  it  is  necessary  to  "  sport"  a 
fifty  dollar  hat ! — an  item  that  goes  hard  with  some 
of  our  famished  purses.  And  yet,  I  should  add  that 
the  most  lovely  lady  in  New-York  makes  her  own 
bonnets,  and  nobody  knows  it  except  the  few  who 
are  in  the  secret,  while  everybody  admires  her  grace 
ful  toilette  and  the  elegance  of  her  ensemble.  By 
the  way,  I  have  just  learned  that  the  cause  of  all 


HERE    AND    THERE.  295 

the  recent  commercial  difficulties  is  to  be  found  in 
the  one  sweet  item  of  sugar.  It  is  stated  that  the 
importations  of  last  year  amounted  to  about  $40,- 
030,000,  against  some  $13,000,000  of  the  preced 
ing  year,  making  an  appalling  difference  in  "  the 
balance  of  trade."  Why  don't  the  planters  of  your 
saccharine  State  go  to  work  and  raise  enough  for 
"home  consumption  ?"  Please  excuse  the  seeming 
unseemliness  of  a  question  in  political  economy  com 
in  from  


LETTER     No.     XXII. 

NEW-YORK, 
April  9,  1858. 

MY  DEAR : 

MR.  G-EORGE  WILLIAM  CURTIS,  the  well  known 
author,  delivered  a  lecture  last  evening  on  woman's 
rights  and  wrongs.  It  was  the  second  in  the  course, 
got  up  by  a  few  benevolent  ladies  for  the  benefit  of 
the  shirt  sewers,  thousands  of  whom  have  been 
thrown  out  of  employment  by  the  universal  introduc 
tion  of  the  sewing  machines.  Mozart  Hall  was  filled, 
and  the  lecture  was,  in  several  respects,  a  remarkable 
production.  Mr.  Curtis  is  a  young  man,  of  superior 


296  BELLE    BRITTAN 

intellect,  and  of  a  rare  poetic*  temperament.  His 
personal  appearance,  manners  and  voice  are  all  that 
can  be  desired  in  a  public  speaker — easy,  earnest, 
eloquent.  Waldo  Emerson  has  evidently  been  his 
model,  both  in  style  ancl  thought,  but  his  elocution 
is  much  more  effective.  In  his  discourse  last  evening 
there  were  some  passages  of  great  beauty  and  start 
ling  force.  His  description  of  the  miserable  multi 
tude  of  poor  women,  "  between  whom  and  death  or 
dishonor  there  was  but  a  needle's  point,  and  even 
.this  small  defence  had  been  stolen  from  them  by  the 
cunning  hand  of  science,"  produced  a  great  sensation. 
But  the  lecturer  offended  a  portion  of  his  audience 
by  dragging  in  the  most  ultra  notions  of  the  Aboli 
tionists,  commending  in  the  most  extravagant  terms, 
"  one  poor  negro  woman,  who  had  seven  times 
crossed  the  fiery  lines  of  slavery,  and  rescued  each 
time  a  victim,  plucked  like  a  brand  from  the  burn 
ing  ;  and  Grod  grant  that  she  may  be  successful  in 
saving  seventy  times  seven  !"  At  this  open  advocacy 
of  negro  stealing,  there  was  some  little  hissing,  which 
was  answered  by  the  speaker  when  the  tumultuous 
applause  would  allow  him  to  proceed  with  the  ready 
and  stale  allusion  to  the  "  goose,"  &c.  The  audience 
was  a  peculiar  one  ;  and,  familiar  as  I  am  with 
New-York  faces,  I  recognized  but  one  lady  and  not 


SERE    AND   THERE.  297 

more  than  three  or  four  gentlemen  whom  I  had  ever 
seen  before. 

Free  suffrage  for  women,  was  the  practical  argu 
ment  of  the  lecture.  If  women  are  equally  interested 
with  men  in  the  welfare  of  society,  and  allowed  to 
Vote  as  stockholders  in  railroad  and  other  corpora 
tions,  why  should  they  not  have  a  hand  in  politics, 
and  exercise  their  pure  judgments  and  sweet  influ 
ence  at  the  ballot  box  ?  Mr.  Curtis  predicted  that 

this  would  be  at  no  distant  day.     "  The  children 

• 

were  already  born  who  would  live  to  go  hand  in 
hand  with  their  wives  and  sisters  to  the  polls,  as  they 
now  accompany  women  to  school,  to  the  theatre,  and 
to  the  church  !"  Mr.  Curtis  also  went  in  strong  for 
female  physicians  ;  and  insisted  that  Dr.  Elizabeth 
Blackwell  was  as  competent  to  attend  the  sick, 
especially  of  their  own  sex,  as  Mott,  or  Francis,  or 
Gray. 

I  have  devoted  some  space  to  Mr.  Curtis  and  the 
bold  enunciation  of  his  novel  views,  because  his  per 
formance  of  last  evening  is  "  bound  to  make  a  talk." 
The  strong-minded  women  have  found  in  "  the  How- 
adji"  an  eloquent  and  efficient  champion.  To  me, 
many  of  his  suggestions  are  as  repugnant  as  they  are 
startling.  I  know  women  have  transcended,  occa 
sionally,  the  "  spheres"  ordinarily  assigned  them  in 


293 


BELLE    BRITTAN 


the  social  economy.  They  have  written  books, 
spoken  in  the  forum,  painted  pictures,  carved  statues, 
sailed  ships,  commanded  armies,  and  wielded  the 
sceptre  of  empires.  But  these  are  exceptional  cases. 
Genius,  like  the  angels,  knows  no  sex.  The  truest, 
the  best,  and  the  sweetest  women  I  know,  sigh  for 
nothing  like  this.  To  be  loved,  truly,  honorably, 
nobly,  is  the  life-long  cry  of  their  souls.  And  to  be 
loved,  they  are  ever  striving  to  make  themselves  lovely. 
A  happy  home  is  the  heaven  of  their  earthly  ambi 
tion  ;  and  when  the  rougher  half  of  creation  will 
secure  them  this,  the  world  will  hear  little  clamor 
from  female  lips  about  woman's  rights,  or  wrongs. 
The  cradle  has  more  charms  than  the  ballot  box ; 
and  the  influence  exerted  there  has  more  to  do  with 
the  destinies  of  nations,  than  the  suffrage  exercised 
at  the  polls. 

I  have  news  to-day,  from  "  the  other  side,"  of  the 
progress  of  the  Leviathan.  Nearly  two  thousand 
workmen  are  now  employed  upon  her,  and  it  is  con 
fidently  expected  that  she  will  arrive  at  Portland 
about  the  first  of  July.  Her  state-rooms  will  be 
parlors,  her  berths  double  beds,  her  saloon  a  grand 
ball-room ;  and  a  newspaper  will  be  regularly  printed 
on  board.  If  her  trip  is  successful,  there  will  be  an 


HERE    AND    THERE.  299 

immense  party  ready  to  return  in  her.  People  who 
are  tired  of  watering-places  will  seek  a  new  sensa 
tion  in  life  on  board  the  Leviathan. 


MY  DEAR' 


LETTER     No.     XXIII. 

,1 


NEW-YORK, 
April  16,  1858. 


THE  failure  and  abandonment  of  the  Collins  Line 
of  Steamers  is  not  only  regarded  as  a  national 
calamity,  but  a  great  loss  to  the  commercial  interests 
of  New- York.  These  magnificent  vessels  have  been 
the  pride  and  glory  of  our  commercial  marine.  As 
models  of  naval  architecture,  they  have  never  been 
surpassed ;  and  for  speed  and  comfort,  they  still 
remain  unrivaled.  It  is  sad  to  see  these  noble  ves 
sels  lying  dismantled  at  our  wharves  ;  while  the  rival 
Cunarders  are  taking  the  great  bulk  of  the  business 
out  of  our  hands.  For  less  than  the  cost  of  one, 
the  mortgagees  (Messrs.  Brown  Brothers,)  have  got 
possession  of  the  Adriatic,  the  Baltic,  and  the  Atlan 
tic  ;  and  their  agent,  Captain  Comstock,  is  trying  to 
dispose  of  them  in  France,  or  failing  there,  to  find  a 
purchaser  in  Philadelphia,  or  Virginia,  or  elsewhere. 
I  am  not  surprized  that  the  originator  of  the  great 


300  BELLE    BRITTAN 

enterprize  feels  broken-hearted ;  or  that  he  bitterly 
complains  at  the  indifference  of  the  Government 
and  the  conduot  of  the  Browns. 

The  line  has  been  most  -extravagantly  managed  ; 
and  we  shall  probably  soon  see  a  report  that  will 
startle  the  public,  and  astonish  the  stockholders.  The 
Browns  being  interested  in  the  "  Novelty  Works," 
secured  the  appointment  of  Mr.  Allen  (of  the  firm  of 
Stillman,  Allen,  &  Co.,  the  proprietors  of  the  No 
velty  Foundry,)  as  engineer-in-chief  of  the  line. 
The  machinery  of  the  ships  was  always  needing 
repairs ;  and  the  gross  payments  to  the  Novelty 
Works  have  exceeded  the  astounding  sum  of  fourteen 
hundred  thousand  dollars  !  And  yet  I  am  assured 
by  one  who  knows,  that  if  the  machinery  had  been 
made  of  "  the  best  material,"  according  to  the  letter 
and  spirit  of  the  contract,  the  cost  of  repairs  would 
have  been  comparatively  trifling.  A  shaft  made  of 
the  best  iron  has  never  broken — cannot  be  broken. 

When  Congress  made  its  last  appropriation  to  the 
line  for  carrying  the  mails,  Mr.  Wetmore,  Mr.  Cor 
coran,  Mr.  Riggs,  and  other  original  stockholders  sold 
out — some  at  par,  others  at  a  discount  of  from  ten 
to  twenty-five  per  cent. — a  fortunate  escape  from 
total  loss.  The  present  stockholders  (except  the 
Browns)  of  course  lose  all.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to 


HERE    AND    THERE.  301 

suppose  that  the  great  rival  lines  of  the  Cunards, 
with  all  their  Government  patronage,  has  made 
money.  They  owe  a  debt  of  four  millions  of  dollars  ; 
and  notwithstanding  the  money  invested  in  their  nu 
merous  ships,  if  compelled  to  sell,  like  Collins,  under 
the  sheriff's  hammer,  that,  too,  would  prove  a  most 
disastrous  enterprise.  In  the  mean  time  the  Havre 
line  seems  to  prosper ;  and  Commodore  Yanderbilt 
also  manages  to  keep  his  flag  afloat  without  the  aid 
of  post-office  patronage.  The  "  Atlantic  Ferry"  needs 
reorganizing  ;  and  there  must  either  be  a  competi 
tion  between  the  Government  of  England  and  the 
United  States,  or  an  opposition  fight  between  com 
panies  or  individuals.  The  indefatigable  Vanderbilt, 
I  think,  is  preparing  to  "  defy  competition,"  and  we 
may  look  for  lower  fares  and  greater  speed  across  the 
Atlantic  than  has  ever  been  known.  The  tide  of 
travel  is  now  setting  strongly  towards  Europe,  and 
every  steamer  goes  out  full.  The  New-Yorkers  are 
going  over  in  crowds. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Chapin  produced  a  decided  sensation 
last  evening,  by  delivering  a  very  eloquent  lecture  to 
a  very  crowded  house  on  "Woman  and  her  Work." 
It  was  a  thrilling  discourse,  unexceptionable  in 
matter  and  manner,  and  ought  to  be  printed  and  cir 
culated  as  a  "  tract  for  the  times."  It  did  not  con- 
14 


302  BELLE    BRITTAN 

tain  a  sentiment  nor  an  assertion  that  the  most  con 
servative  citizen  or  Christian  could  object  to.  Mr. 
Chapin  is  a  sound,  healthful  man,  who  is  not  afraid 
to  write  a  sermon  with  a  good  cigar  in  his  mouth, 
nor  to  tell  his  people  that  he  don't  believe  in  a  literal 
hell  of  fire  and  brimstone.  He  insists  that  women 
have  a  right  to  live,  a  right  to  work,  and  that  society, 
in  driving  them  to  starvation  and  dishonor,  has  a 
great  sin  to  answer  for.  On  looking  in  at  Stewart's 
this  morning,  and  seeing  a  hundred  able-bodied  men, 
some  of  them  six  feet  and  well  proportioned,  selling- 
gloves,  laces,  ribbons,  and  hose  to  a  crowd  of  ladies, 
I  could  not  help  thinking  that  there  was  a  little 
usurpation  here  of  the  employment  that  belongs  to 
woman.  The  fact  is,  something  has  got  to  be  done 
for  the  suffering  sisterhood  who  belong  to  nobody, 
whom  nobody  will  marry,  and  nobody  employ. 
These  thousands  of  idle,  delicate  fingers  are  willing 
to  work,  but  the  "  right  of  the  stronger"  rules  them 
out  of  almost  every  department  of  paying  industry. 
The  sewing-machine  has  stolen  away  the  needle,  and 
the  doors  of  the  printing-office,  the  post-office,  and 
the  retail  stores,  are  all  shut  in  their  famished  faces. 
What  is  to  be  done  ?  To  this  question,  I  fear  the 
answer  will  be  but  an  empty  echo.  In  the  mean- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  303 

time,  there  is  room  for  half  a  million  of  unemploy» 
ed  women  in  the  pleasant  vine  lands  of  Ohio  and 
Missouri. 


LETTER    No.    XXIV. 

NEW-YORK,  \ 

April  30,  1858.  J 
MY  DEAR  — —  : 

THESE  are  "moving  times"  in  New- York,  when 
hundreds  of  families  are  "  casting  their  shells,"  some 
for  better  and  some  for  worse  ;  some  going  up,  others 
going  down.  The  late  commercial  disasters  have 
caused  some  sad  changes.  Men  who  built  palaces 
in  the  Fifth  Avenue,  where  they  fondly  hoped  their 
families  might  live  for  life,  in  elegance  and  luxury, 
have  been  compelled  to  sell  out  at  a  sacrifice,  and 
take  lodgings  in  less  fashionable  and  less  sumptuous 
quarters.  This  is  a  hard  experience,  especially  for 
young  wives  and  ambitious  daughters. 

On  or  about  the  first  of  May  we  look  for  a  sweep 
ing  demolition  of  old  buildings  and  unsightly  shan 
ties,  and  to  see  their  sites  quickly  covered  by  new 
and  ornamental  structures.  It  has  been  generally 
supposed  that  there  would  be  less  tearing  down  and 
building  up  this  year  than  usual,  in  consequence  of 


304  BELLE    BRITTAN 

the  great  commercial  embarrassments,  which  have 
considerably  depreciated  rents  in  certain  portions  of 
the  city.  But  it  is  not  so.  The  abundance  of  un 
employed  money  compels  capitalists  to  invest  in 
buildings,  almost  against  their  judgment.  Our  city 
banks  now  hold  about  thirty-five  millions  of  specie  ; 
trade  is  unusually  dull  ;  importations  light ;  and 
the  rate  of  interest  lower  than  it  has  been  for  years. 
Labor  and  lumber  are  abundant;  and  unimproved 
property  is  a  costly  encumbrance — no  property  at 
all,  except  for  purposes  of  taxation.  So  the  owners 
of  lots,  with  balances  in  bank,  must  go  to  work 
and  build  houses  and  stores,  and  trust  for  better 
times  to  rent  them  profitably. 

The  bankrupt  bill  now  before  Congress,  which 
Mr.  Toombs  is  engineering  in  the  Senate,  and  Gren. 
"Ward,  of  this  city,  in  the  House,  is  exciting  a  good 
deal  of  interest  among  the  multitude  of  broken  mer 
chants,  who  have  their  headquarters  in  Nassau-street, 
where  they  have  opened  a  regular  suit  of  rooms,  and 
employ  a  corps  of  writers  to  prepare  articles,  and  to 
manufacture  public  opinion  in  favor  of  the  law, 
which  is  now  before  the  Judiciary  Committee,  and 
will  probably  be  presented  to  the  Senate  early  next 
week.  It  will  be  a  general  bill,  including  individ 
uals,  corporations,  chartered  banks,-  and  any  associa- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  305 

tion  of  persons  authorized  to  issue  notes,  bills,  &c. 
It  will  provide  for  voluntary  and  involuntary  bank 
ruptcy,  and  \vill  be  retroactive.  The  retroactive 
feature  will  be  guarded  so  as  to  exclude  all  who, 
subsequent  to  January  last,  or  any  other  time,  have 
made  assignments,  in  contemplation  of  the  passage 
of  a  bankrupt  law,  which  gave  preference  to  one 
creditor  over  another ;  and  the  bankrupt  in  such 
cases  shall  not  receive  a  discharge  unless  with  the 
consent  of  a  majority  of  his  creditors  who  have  not 
been  so  preferred.  The  involuntary  bankruptcy  ap 
plies  to  cases  where  the  debts  exceed  two  thousand 
dollars,  and  the  person  declared  bankrupt  is  entitled 
to  trial  by  jury — all  transfers  of  property  of  any 
kind,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  any  creditor,  endorser, 
or  other  person,  any  preference  or  priority  over  gene 
ral  creditors,  to  be  null  and  void,  and  the  parties 
obtaining  them  to  be  sued  for  such  amount  as  assets 
of  the  bankruptcy.  With  regard  to  banks  and  other 
issuers  of  paper  money,  they  are  to  come  under  the 
head  of  involuntary  bankrupts ;  and,  in  addition  to 
all  the  liabilities  which  attach  to  individuals,  they 
may  be  declared  bankrupt  for  the  non-payment  for 
ten  days  after  demand  of  any  bill,  note,  or  other 
liability — all  the  expenses  of  the  proceedings  to  be 
paid  by  the  parties  interested,  and  under  no  pre- 


306  BELLE    BRITTAN 

tence  to  be  paid  by  the  United  States.  These  are 
the  general  features  of  the  bill.  It  is  to  go  into 
effect  next  November,  if  now  passed. 

As  a  matter  of  justice,  not  to  say  of  mercy,  to  the 
thousands  who  are  struggling  for  life  with  a  mill 
stone  of  debt  about  their  necks,  such  a  bill  should 
pass  without  delay.  It  will  prevent  the  "  suspension" 
of  solvent  banks,  and  do  away  with  the  swindle  of 
the  "preferred  creditor"  system.  When  a  man  fails 
in  business,  and  gives  up  all  he  has  for  an  equal 
distribution  among  his  creditors,  the  law  of  trade, 
the  law  of  society,  and  the  law  of  humanity,  should 
be  satisfied.  Such  a  code  is  inculcated  in  that  model 
petition  to  the  Highest  Court — "  Forgive  us  our  debts 
as  we  (should)  forgive  our  debtors." 


The  "  Dramatic  Fund  Association"  have  held  their 
annual  meeting,  without  the  annual  dinner ;  and 
over  a  very  fine  collation,  at  "The  Metropolitan," 
made  a  very  favorable  report  of  their  receipts  and 
disbursements.  Over  ten  thousand  dollars  have 
been  devoted  to  charities  during  the  year.  Jas.  T. 
Brady,  Esq.,  the  President,  takes  a  great  interest  in 
the  "Association;"  and  John  Brougham,  a  warm 
friend  of  the  cause  from  the  beginning,  has  donated  to 


HERE    AND  THERE.  307 

the  "  Fund"  certain  real  estate  property  in  the  West, 
which,  in  the  course  of  twenty  years,  can  hardly 
fail  to  be  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars.  By  the 
way,  I  am  authorized  to  state  that  Mr.  Brougham 
has  been  converted  to  Christianity ;  and  will  not 
quit  the  stage. 


LETTER    No.    XXV. 

NEW- YORK, 
May  31,  1858. 

MY  DEAR  : 

THE  musical  dilettanti  of  our  city  have  been 
treated  to  a  rare  entertainment — a  private  opera, 
privately  performed  in  one  of  the  most  aristocratic 
mansions  of-  University  Place,  the  residence  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Ward,  the  author  of  the  words  and  music, 
and  one  of  the  leading  performers  of  his  own  charm 
ing  production.  The  title  of  the  opera  is  "  Flora  ; 
or,  The  Gipsy's  Frolic."  It  is  in  three  acts,  and  the 
scene  is  laid  in  France,  in  the  time  of  Louis  the  XIV. 
The  plot  is  romantic  and  pretty  ;  the  characters  nu- 
msrous,  and  the  action  lively.  The  following  is  the 
cast : 


308  BELLE    BRITTAN 

Lady  Flora Miss  Alice  Goodrich. 

Marie Miss  Kittie  Ward. 

Count  Ernest Mr.  Van  Zandt. 

Popinjay Dr.  Ward. 

Dame  Popinjay Mrs.  Powell. 

Jacques Mr.  Montgomery. 

Annette Mrs.  Rosalie  Riggs. 

Claude Mr.  W.  H.  Cooke. 

Gipsy  Girl Miss  Olivia  Sconcia. 

Paul Mr.  Daily. 

Chorus  of  Peasants — Men  and  Women. 

.  • 

The  opera  has  been  given  four  times.  Tickets  of 
invitation  were  sent  out  as  for  an  evening  party,  and 
at  each  representation  there  was  a  delighted  and 
fashionable  crowd.  A  stage  was  elegantly  fitted  up 
at  the  end  of  the  spacious  drawing-room,  and  on 
each  occasion  the  spectators  have  numbered  from 
three  to  four  hundred.  The  piece  was  handsomely 
mounted,  and  the  dresses  of  the  performers,  including 
the  chorus,  were  exceedingly  rich  and  tasteful.  The 
leading  artists  would  do  credit  to  the  Academy. 
Miss  Sconcia  dressed,  looked,  acted,  and  sang  the 
roguish  role  of  the  Gripsy,  charmingly.  I  have  rarely 
heard  so  exquisite  a  voice.  She  is  already  a  full- 
fledged  prima  donna,  who  would  make  a  fortune  and 
a  furore  in  grand  opera.  Mr.  Cooke,  the  tenor,  has 
a  very  sweet  and  sympathetic  voice  ;  and  Mrs.  Riggs, 
as  the  village  bride,  was  the  most  enchanting  of  co 
quettes,  and  the  most  delicious  of  singers.  The 


HERK    AND    THERE.  309 

Lady  Flora  of  Miss  Groodrich  (a  daughter  of  "  Peter 
Parley")  was  a  stately,  dignified,  and  ladylike  per 
formance,  and  Dr.  Ward,  the  basso,  and  Mr.  Van 
Zandt,  the  baritone,  sang  and  acted  more  like  artists 
than  amateurs.  The  poetry  of  the  libretto  is  far 
above  the  average,  and  the  music  is  too  good  for  pri 
vate  monopoly.  The  serenade,  which  ends  in  a  duett 
between  the  lovers,  is  a  perfect  gem  of  melody. 
Claude,  with  guitar  accompaniment,  sings  under 
Annette's  lattice : 

Sleep,  gentle  maiden,  I  would  not  wake  thee, 
Only  thy  slumbering  thought  would  I  guide  ; 

Dream  that  thy  lover  his  passion  is  breathing, 
Drawn  by  the  moonlight  to  mourn  at  thy  side. 

Hear  me,  yet  wake  not  ;   scarce  would  my  'plaining 
Move  you  to  doubt  if  you  dream,  or  you  hear  ; 

Softly  as  zephyr  now  sighs  o'er  your  tresses, 
So  would  my  murmuring  creep  to  your  ear. 

Both : — The  gentle  moon  looks  mildly  down, 
At  her  sweet  gaze  the  vapors  flee  ; 
Ah  !  thus,  when  clouds  around  me  frown, 
Thy  glance  shall  chase  them,  love,  from  me. 

The  night  bird's  song 

Calms  nature's  breast, 
So  thy  clear  voice 

Soothes  mine  to  rest. 
Ever,  when  moonlight 

Silvers  the  tree, 
Music  from  slumber 

Shall  win  me  to  thee, 

14* 


310  BELLE    BRITTAN 

I  have  devoted  some  space  to  this  most  delightful 
private  entertainment,  which  is  hardly  a  subject  for 
public  comment ;  but  as  it  happens  to  be  just  now 
the  "  town  talk,"  and  as  the  performance  has  been 
already  alluded  to  in  several  of  the  newspapers,  there 
is  no  violation  of  "  the  proprieties"  in  mentioning 
these  particulars.  Every  one  (of  the  ten  or  twelve 
hundred  persons)  who  has  enjoyed  the  opportunity 
of  witnessing  Dr.  Ward's  production,  is  delighted 
with  it ;  and  there  will  be  a  strong  effort  made  to  in 
duce  him  to  give  the  public  a  chance  to  hear  it,  the 
proceeds  to  be  appropriated  to  charitable  purposes. 
It  would  fill  the  Academy  as  it  never  has  been  filled 
before.  The  house  will  be  jammed. 

"We  are  having  almost  the  first  fine  day  for  a 
month  (Jupiter  Pluvius  has  reigned  incessantly  since 
"  May-day")  ;  and,  to  confess  the  honest  truth,  New- 
York  is  hard  up  in  the  way  of  amusements,  while 
the  city  is  filling  up  with  strangers.  All  the  leading 
hotels  are  overflowing.  Baron  Hackett  commences 
a  short  engagement  to-night,  at  Laura  Keene's,  and 
a  pleasant  rumor  says  he  is  to  be  followed  by  M'me 
Stoepel  (Matilda  Heron).  The  Mormon  extrava 
ganza  at  Wallack's  is  drawing  tremendous  houses. 
It  is  a  very  trashy  affair ;  but  the  short  petticoats  of 
Brigham's  harem  will  insure  the  piece  a  long  run. 

The  latest  splurge  in  the  way  of  newspaper  ad- 


HERB    AND    THERE.  311 

vertisements,  is  Barnum's  stunning  programme,  in 
which  the  Prince  of  Humbugs  proposes  to  bring  out 
all  the  stars  of  Europe,  provided  eight  hundred  sub 
scribers  can  be  procured,  at  one  hundred  dollars  each 
for  twenty  performances  !  The  thing  can't  be  done. 
The  great  showman  has  lost  his  prestige,  and  his 
operatic  stock  will  not  be  taken.  The  Americans  are 
able  and  willing  to  pay  liberally  for  a  good  thing, 

but  they  like  to  see  it  and  test  it  first. 

x* 

Strawberry  parties  and  wedding  parties  are  begin- 
to  rage  in  the  Fifth  Avenue.     Love  comes  with  the 


roses 


"  In  the  spring,  a  fuller  crimson 
Comes  upon  the  robin's  breast ; 

In  the  spring,  the  wanton  lapwing 
Gets  himself  another  crest ; 

In  the  spring,  a  livelier  iris 
Plays  upon  the  burnished  dove  ; 

In  the  spring,  a  young  man's  fancy 
Lightly  turns  to  thoughts  of  love." 


LETTER    No.     XXVI. 

CAPE  MAY,          \ 
.November  11,  1857.  J 
MY  DEAR : 

*  *  *  PEOPLE  of  quiet  habits,  and  accustomed 
to  domestic  "comforts,  are  tired  of  the  rattle  and 
clatter  of  over-crowded  hotels ;  and  disgusted  with 


312  BELLE    BRITTA.N 

the  small  "packing  boxes,"  called  "by  courtesy 
"  rooms,"  with  non-elastic  beds,  about  as  wide  as  a 
coffin  ;  and  a  pillow  like  a  pocket-handkerchief  with 
a  feather  in  it.  To  give  up  a  city  home  with  all  the 
"  modern  improvements"  (including  the  ever  flowing 
and  glorious  Croton),  where  one  may  wander  of  a 
summer's  night,  through  cool  and  spacious  apart 
ments  in  a  primitive  and  luxurious  simplicity  of 
dress,  for  a  cell  in  a  watering-place  hotel,  can  hardly 
be  considered  "  a  change  for  the  better."  And  then, 
too,  our  more  fastidious  classes  are  getting  to  be  shy 
of  watering-place  society,  especially  mothers,  who 
have  marriageable  daughters  on  their  hands. 

Never  a  "  season"  goes  by  that  we  do  not  hear  of 
some  "  hair  breadth"  escapes  from  some  horrible 
messalliance,  if  nothing  worse.  But  I  have  not  space 
to  discuss  the  subject  to-day.  A  little  watering- 
place  information  is  all  I  intended  to  give,  and  thus 
far  can  only  speak  from  actual  observation  of  Cape 
May,  where  there  is  a  pretty  large  crowd  of  visitors, 
mostly  from  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  other 
Southern  cities,  with  a  small  but  brilliant  sprinkling 
of  New-Yorkers,  with  the  witty,  lively,  and  grace 
ful  Mrs.  Oscar  Coles  as  the  central  star.  The 
hotels  are  all  comfortably  filled ;  and  "  Congress 
Hall"  is  overflowing. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  313 

The  great  attractions  of  the  Cape  are  cool  air  and 
fine  bathing.  During  the  three  first  days  of  the 
present  week,  it  was  cool  enough  in  the  breeze,  even 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  for  thick  clothing.  Every 
body  goes  in  to  bathe  at  about  11  o'clock  in  the 
forenoon,  and  with  some  two  or  three  thousand  per 
sons  on  the  beach  at  a  time,  in  every  variety  of 
costume,  and  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  the 
scene  is  decidedly  picturesque  and  peculiar. 

There  is  one  fashion  prevailing  at  Cape  May  which 
has  not  yet  been  introduced  at  Newport.  The  ladies 
go  into  the  water  promiscuously  with  their  "beaux," 
making  regular  engagements,.-as  for  a  dance,  to  meet 
them  on  the  beach  or  among  the  breakers.  There 
is  one  bright-eyed  little  gipsy  from  Baltimore,  the 
belle  of  "  Congress  Hall,"  who  is  "  engaged  ahead" 
for  bathing  as  well  as  dancing  during  the  remainder 
of  the  season ;  and  sometimes,  in  order  to  keep  the 
peace  among  her  admirers,  she  has,  to  bathe  with 
three  or  four  gentlemen  of  a  morning,  allowing  each, 
by  turn  the  felicity  of  floating  or  ducking  her  dear 
little  figure.  There  is  no  lack  of  life  among  the 
"  white  caps,"  to  say  nothing  of  the  "  mad  caps"  at 
Cape  May. 

If  any  of  the  readers  of  the  Mirror  are  curious  to 
see  "  sights  to  remember,"  let  them  go  on  board  one 


314  BELLE    BRITTAN 

of  Commodore  Coles'  fine  steamers,  at  5  p.  M.  ;  and 
at  a  corresponding  hour  the  next  morning  they  will 
wake  up  at  Cape  May,  and  probably  feel  a  little  more 
widely  waked  up  than  usual.  At  all  events,  people 
in  search  of  "  new  sensations "  had  better  try  the 
experiment. 

Cape  May  is  one  of  the  "  peculiar  institutions," 
and  after  taking  time  to  arrange  my  reminiscences 
and  to  allay  the  "  very  pleasant  wild  goose  motion" 
of  the  trip,  I  may  return  to  the  subject. 


LETTER     No.  XXVII. 

UNION  HALL,  SARATOGA  SPRINGS,  f 
August    16,  1857.  \ 

MY  DEAR : 

SARATOGA  is  crowded ;  perhaps  never  more  so. 
The  "  United  States"  has  about  one  thousand  guests, 
in  and  out  of  the  hotel ;  the  "  Union"  eight  hundred  ; 
"  Congress  Hall"  six  hundred ;  and  all  the  minor 
hotels  and  boarding-houses  are  full  to  overflowing. 
The  "season"  has  "set  in"  later  than  usual,  owing, 
probably,  to  the  remarkably  moderate  temperature 
of  July ;  but  it  is  expected  that  it  will  be  propor- 
tionably  prolonged.  Fashion,  as  usual,  congregates 


HERE    AND    THERE.  315 

at  the  "  States  ;"  while  quiet  respectability  recupe 
rates  at  the  "  Union,"  which  is  no  longer  the  ultra 
pious  house  of  former  years,  prayers  in  the  drawing- 
room  having  given  place  to  extemporaneous  "hops," 
in  which  the  miscellaneous  multitude  nightly  dis 
port  themselves,  from  the  little  ones  who  are  taking 
their  first  steps,  to  the  silver-gray  veterans  who  are 
about  taking  their  last.  Dancing,  indeed,  is  the 
only  general  amusement  of  the  place,  unless  driving 
in  a  long  and  dusty  procession  to  the  Lake  is  con 
sidered  an  "amusement." 

The  walks  about  the  "Springs"  are  very  fine,  and 
usually  thronged  morning  and  evening;  and  the 
private  park  of  Mr.  Finlay,  whose  name  is  pleasantly 
associated  with  good  wine,  is  a  very  attractive  prom 
enade.  There  are  also  excellent  bands  in  each  of 
the  principal  hotels,  which  give  us  alfresco  concerts 
after  dinner  that  are  really  worth  listening  to.  The 
band  at  the  "  Union"  is  especially  fine,  almost  equal 
to  the  "  G-ermanians"  at  Newport,  under  Carl  Berg- 
mann.  We  have  also  two  or  three  excellent  ama 
teur  singers,  who  contribute  generously  and  largely 
to  the  delights  of  the  drawing-room.  Among  them, 
it  will  not  be  invidious  to  mention  Mrs.  Robertson, 
of  Canada,  whose  linnet-like  voice  hushes  the  crowd 
into  instant  silence  ;  and  Miss  Herndon,  of  our  city, 


316  BELLE    BRITTAN 

whose  sweet  tones  remind  one  of  the  music  heard  by 
Coleridge's  "  Ancient  Mariner  :" 

"Sometimes  adropping  from  the  sky, 

I  heard  the  sky-lark  sing, 
And  now  all  little  birds  that  are, 
How  they  seemed  to  fill  the  sea  and  air, 

With  their  sweet  jargoning." 

Of  belles  there  is  no  lack,  either  in  numbers  or 
variety — dancing  belles,  flirting  belles,  dumb  belles, 
dressing  belles,  and  talking  belles — the  latter,  per 
haps,  the  rarest  and  best  of  all.  But  the  question 
daily  asked:  "Who  is  the  belle  of  the  States?"— of 
the  "  Union  ?"— of  the  "  Congress  ?"— of  the  "  place?" 
I  shall  not  venture  to  answer.  It  is  one  of  those, 
delicate  and  disputed  questions  about  which,  for 
tunately,  "  opinions  differ." 

I  suppose  every  woman,  however  ugly,  is  beauti 
ful  to  somebody ;  while  the  one  we  love  best  is  al 
ways  the  belle  of  our  heart,  if  not  of  our  eyes.  But 
there  are  certain  forms  and  faces,  to  say  nothing  of 
a  thousand  indescribable  charms  and  graces,  that 
excite  universal  admiration.  These  cosmopolitan 
beauties  are  the  flowers  of  creation.  And  we  have  a 
few  such  here,  who  add  lustre  to  the  brightest  day 
light  ;  whose  beauty  is  music  addressed  to  the  eye> 
and  whose  sweet  accompaniments  even  women 
praise.  But  I  will  venture  no  further  upon  this 


HERE    AND    THERE.  317 

"  inspiring  theme"  to-day — further  particulars,  per 
haps,  hereafter. 


LETTER    No.    XXVIII. 


UNITED  STATES  HOTEL,  SARATOGA    SPRINGS,  \ 
August  19,  1857.  $ 


MY  DEAR 


THE  somewhat  monotonous  life  of  this  gay  and 
fashionable  "  watering-place"  was  pleasantly  relieved 
last  evening  by  the  introduction  of  what  in  theatrical 
phrase  would  be  called  a  new  and  attractive  change 
in  the  programme  of  amusements.  "We  were  treated 
to  a  series  of  "  Tableaux  Vivants,"  got  up  in  the 
most  impromptu  manner,  and  yet  entirely  successful, 
and,  as  the  critics  would  say.  "effective."  Indeed, 
the  affair  is  the  talk  of  the  day,  and  may  be  chron 
icled  as  the  great  success  of  the  season.  All  who 
took  part  in  getting  them  up,  prompters,  managers, 
and  performers,  deserve  the  "thanks  of  the  commu 
nity,"  for  giving  at  least  a  thousand  spectators  an 
opportunity  of  feasting  their  eyes  on  the  "  Belles  of 
the  Season"  dressed,  posed  and  composed  as  pictures. 
Mrs.  Hills  and  Mrs.  Thayer  of  New- York,  and  Mr. 
Pepper  and  Mr.  Fry  of  Philadelphia,  started  the  idea 
in  the  morning ;  and  in  six  hours  costumes,  characters, 
and  all  requisite  accessories  were  ready.  No  special 


318  BELLE    BRITTAN 

invitations  were  given  out,  but  it  was  whispered 
around  among  the  hotels  at  the  dinner  table  ;  and 
when  nine  o'clock  came,  the  Hall  of  the  "  States" 
was  besieged  by  an  eager  crowd ;  and  as  soon  as  the 
doors  were  opened  the  spacious  saloon  was  thronged 
to  excess.  Monk's  baud  was  in  attendance,  who  did 
the  orchestral  part  between  the  changing  scenes. 

The  following  is  the  order  in  which  the  pictures 
were  presented.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  or 
criticise  them.  Every  presentation  was  a  complete 
success  ;  and  everything  passed  off  without  a  single 
contretemps. 

1.  REBECCA  AND  ROWENA — Miss  Stone  and   Miss 
Cheatham. 

2.  JKANNIE    AND   EFFIE    DEANS    IN  PRISON — Miss 
Bayard  and  Miss  Frazer. 

3.  CONRAD  AND  GULNARE — Mrs.  Thayer  and  Mr. 
Montgomery. 

4.  ZULEIKA  PRESENTING  THE  ROSE  (A  scene  from 
the   Bride  of  Abydos) — Miss  Hull  and  Mr.  Montgo 
mery 

5.  UNCLE   TOBY   AND  THE  WIDOW  WADMAN — Mr 
Gerard  and  Mrs.  Pember. 

6.  THE  THREE  GRACES — Miss  Smith,  Miss  Parker, 
and  Miss  Marshall. 

7.  SPANISH  DUENNA  WARNING  HER  NIECE  AGAINST 


HERE    AND    THERE.  319 

LOVERS — Miss  Winchester,  Mrs.  Pember,   and   Mr. 
Hutchinson. 

8.  ROMEO  AND  JULIET — The     tomb    scene — Miss 
Hull  and  Mr.  Read. 

9.  BRIDE  OF   LAMMERMOOR — Miss  Marshall,    Miss 
Frazer,  and  Mr.  Montgomery. 

10.  DAY  AFTER  MARRIAGE — Mrs.  Pember  and  Mr. 
Read. 

11.  Six  MONTHS  AFTER  MARRIAGE — The  same. 

12.  THE  FINALE. 

In  this  last  tableaux  were  grouped  all  the  ladies 
who  had  taken  part  in  the  preceding  ones  ;  and  it 
was  a -vision  of  beauty  that  made  one  hold  his  breath 
in  a  sort  of  bewilderment  of  admiration — like  the 
first  glance  at  Winterhalter's  "  Florinde"  now  on 
exhibition  here.  A  dozen  young  women,  in  all  the 
dew  of  youth,  exquisitely  dressed,  looking  as  fair  as 
lilies,  and  as  sweet  as  roses,  presented  a  never-to-be 
forgotten  picture.  The  sweet  strains  of  a  favorite 
prima  donna  were  never  more  heartily  applauded 
than  the  beaming  beauties  of  this  lovely  group. 

I  know  it  would  add  interest  to  this  tantalizing 
communication  to  draw  comparisons,  to  describe  dress 
es,  and  to  touch  a  little  more  closely  upon  the  person 
al  attractions  of  the  fair  exhibitors.  But  I  dare  not 
venture  upon  such  a  delicate  and  dangerous  task. 
Besides,  a  private  woman  is  altogether  too  sacred 


320  BELLE    BRITTAN 

a  subject  to  have  her  charms  and  gfaces  discussed 
in  the  newspapers,  like  the  points  of  a  race  horse  or 
the  lines  of  a  yacht.  So  I  will  leave  these  beautiful 
"  Tableaux"  to  the  mental  picture  galleries  of  all 
who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  see  them-^-and  to  the 
imaginations  of  the  readers  of  the  Mirror. 

In  a  former  letter,  I  mentioned  among  the  sweet 
singers  of  the  "  United  States"  Miss  Herndon,  a 
daughter  of  Lieut.  Herndon  of  the  Navy.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  she  has  left  us  ;  and  her  sweet  warbling  is 
sadly  missed.  But  consolation  to  the  lovers  of  music 
came  to-day  with  the  arrival  of  Miss  Van  Schoonho- 
ven,  from  Troy,  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  ama 
teur  musicians  in  the  country.  She  plays  on  some 
half-a-dozen  different  instruments,  and  is  a  whole 
orchestra  in  herself.  She  is  quite  young,  fine-look 
ing,  sings  like  an  artiste,  and  improvises  music  as 
though  it  were  her  most  "  natural  language."  But 
the  mail  is  closing,  and  so  must  I. 


LETTER    No.    XXIX. 

NEW-YORK, 
September  30,  1857- 

MY  DEAR  : 

So  you  will  insist  on  my  "  engagement."  Appalling 
word !  and  one  that  implies  many  duties  and  some 


HERE    AND    THERE.  321 

sacrifices,  to  say  nothing  of  the  responsibilities.  But 
having  pronounced  the  irrevocable  "  yes,"  I  am 
literally  bound  to  go  ahead,  like  other  engaged  ladies, 
without  apology,  delay  or  repentance.  I  only  insist 
on  one  condition  viz  :  That  the  Mirror  shall  defend 
me  from  the  broad  charges  of  "  Mary  Forrest"  and 
others,  that  your  "  fair  correspondent"  wears  whis 
kers,  and  so  forth.  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  can't  a 
woman  "  suffer  and  be  strong"  without  exciting  sus 
picion  of  her  femininity ! 

But  to  the  matter  in  hand.  I  have  seen  "  The 
North  Star"  at  the  Academy — Meyerbeer's  "  North 
Star  " — the  "  North  Star"  of  the  brilliant  and  bewitch- 
ing  La  Grrange ;  and  I  would  like  to  see  it  and  hear 
it  seven  times  a  week  until  Meyerbeer,  or  some  one 
else,  can  give  us  something  better.  Like  all  grand 
operas,  "The  North  Star"  is  made  up  of  the  common 
passions  of  our  common  humanity — a  little  religion, 
a  good  deal  of  love,  and  a  liberal  sprinkling  of  mili 
tary  glory.  The  opening  scene  represents  a  shipyard 
in  Russia,  with  Peter  the  Big  (Amodio)  at  work  with 
his  hand-plane,  "  getting  out  stuff."  Presently, 
comes  in  his  friend  (Brignoli),  selling  his  little  cakes, 
when  the  chorus  eats,  drinks,  and  grows  jolly.  By 
and  by  "  The  Star"  appears  (La  Grange),  and  Peter 
is  decidedly  smitten.  In  the  midst  of  his  love- 


322  BELLE    BRITTAN 

making  a  young  lady  about  to  be  married  (Madame 
Maretzek)  rushes  upon  the  scene  in  a  state  of  terri 
ble  excitement,  announcing  the  approach  of  the 
"  Border  Ruffians"  (The  Cossac  Banditti).  And  lo  ! 
they  come,  shaggy,  hairy  and  hideous.  But  the 
magic  "  Star,"  who  now  assumes  the  guise  and  the 
arts  of  a  gipsy,  sings  and  jingles  an  old  Cossac 
ditty  (made  familiar  by  Jenny  Lind),  which  subdues 
the  "  savage  breast,"  and  sends  the  grizzly  chorus 
singing  and  dancing  to  their  dens. 

But  Cattarina's  brother  (Q,uinto),  who  is  betrothed 
to  the  belle  of  the  village,  is  suddenly  summoned  to 
the  wars  :  and  alas,  for  the  poor  girl  he  leaves  behind 
him  !  In  this  pressing  emergency,  the  beautiful  and 
heroic  "  Star"  offers  to  don  the  soldier's  habits,  and 
take  her  brother's  place  in  the  ranks.  The  marriage 
goes  on  and  comes  off,  and  the  curtain  falls  as  Catta- 
rina  is  rowed  away,  singing  a  parting  benediction, 
as  sad  as  the  "  Last  Rose  of  Summer,"  and  some 
what  suggestive  of  that  lovely  Swan  song  of  the 
departing  flowers.  In  the  next  act  she  appears  in  full 
feather  as  a  soldier,  and  is  posted  as  one  of  the  sen 
tinels  by  the  royal  tent.  Catching  a  glimpse  of  her 
old  flame,  Peter,  she  throws  away  her  gun ;  peeps 
through  the  curtain ;  sees  what  she  ought  not  to 
see  ;  becomes  awfully  jealous  ;  slaps  her  "  superior 
officer"  in  the  face,  and  is  finally  ordered  to  be  shot 


HERE    AND   THERE.  323 

by  her  half  drunk  and  half  asleep  lover.  But  Peter 
"  comes  to  himself"  in  time  to  save  her;  and  she, 
in  turn,  saves  his  life  by  revealing  the  plot  on  foot 
against  him. 

In  the  third  and  last  act  C  attar ina  loses  her  reason ; 
and  is  only  restored  by  Peter's  love  and  Peter's  flute 
in  time  to  save  the  curtain  from  falling  on  a  tragedy 
instead  of  a  comedy.  So  much  for  the  thread  of  the 
story.  The  music  is  better  than  the  plot.  The 
orchestral  and  choral  portions  have  never  been  sur 
passed.  I  am  not  going  to  distribute  personal  praise 
among  the  artists  ;  but  I  wish  to  say  a  good  word  for 
the  manager,  who,  in  the  brief  space  of  two  weeks 
has  placed  this  great  opera  upon  the  stage,  in  a 
style  only  surpassed  by  its  representation  in  Paris. 
Who  but  the  indomitable  Max  could  have  accom 
plished  so  much  in  so  brief  a  time  ? 

And  now  "  it  gars  me  greet,"  to  think  that  the 
doors  of  onr  beautful  Lyric  Temple  are  to  be  closed 
to-night — to  rust  on  their  hinges,  while  silence  reigns 
within  its  walls.  The  Academy  of  Music  has  too 
many  owners  ;  and  the  lessee  too  many  masters. 
If  I  were  an  Astor  or  an  Empress,  I  would  not  only 
buy  the  Academy  and  let  it,  rent  free  ;  but  endow 
it  with  a  sinking  fuzid  to  make  up  the  deficit  of  an 
unsuccessful  season.  Who  says  I  am  not  generous 
in  my  suggestions  ? 


324  BELLE    BRITTAN 


LETTER    No.    XXX. 


NliW-YoRK,  \ 

October  2,  1856.    5 


MY  DEAR 


COUSIN  Lou  has  promised  to  take  me  the  rounds 
of  the  theatres.  Last  night,  I  went  to  ""WAL 
LACE'S,"  and  had  a  tight  squeeze  to  get  in.  The 
play  was  "  London  Assurance  ;"  and  hundreds  who 
came  late  were  compelled  to  go  away,  consoling 
themselves  and  the  manager  by  purchasing  tickets 
for  this  evening,  when  the  same  performance  will  be 
repeated.  The  star  of  the  piece  and  of  the  evening 
was  Miss  Agnes  Robertson.  What  a  perfect  little 
jewel  she  is  !  Just  about  the  size  of  the  Venus, 
with  feet  not  larger  than  a  mouse  ;  and  ankles  about 
as  little  as  a  baby's  wrist.  Petite  and  pretty,  versa 
tile  and  vivacious,  cunning  and  coquettish,  as  Grace 
Harkaway  she  was  perfectly  charming.  In  addition 
to  a  figure  as  finished  as  a  statue,  and  as  much  finer 
than  a  statue  as  the  feminine  human  composition  is 
finer,  and  fairer,  and  more  delicate  than  marble, 
Miss  Robertson  possesses  the  rare  beauty  of  dark 
hair  and  deep  blue  eyes,  fringed  with  lashes  that 
mitigate  the  brilliancy  of  their  expression  only  to 
shed  the  more  radiance  upon  her  beaming  face.  And 


HERE    AND    THERE.  325 

then,  too,  she  dresses  like  a  picture,  sings  like  a 
prima  donna,  and  dances  like  a  Bayadere.  What  a 
card  for  her  manager  ;  what  a  treasure  for  Mr.  Bour- 
cicault !  In  the  funny  farce  of  "  The  Young  Ac 
tress,"  she  exhibited  her  best  points,  and  quite  be 
witched  the  house. 

But  I  am  forgetting  Bourcicault,  the  author  of  the 
play,  and  the  representative  of  the  part  of  Dazzle. 
He  is  a  much  younger-looking  man  than  I  expected 
to  find  the  father  of  so  many  scores  of  dramatic 
children.  I  have  but  one  thing  to  say  of  him,  as  he 
appears  on  the  stage  :  He  does  not  act  the  part  he 
presents  ;  he  is  it.  And  as  for  the  comedy  of  "  Lon 
don  Assurance,"  my  only  objection  to  it  is  this — 
that  it  is  too  highly  peppered  with  profane  exple 
tives.  As  Bob  Acres  very  justly  remarks,  "damns 
have  had  their  day  ;"  and  if  decent  dictionary  words 
are  not  sufficiently  emphatic  for  dramatic  expression, 
let  the  authors  set  their  wits  at  work  to  invent  a 
new  vocabulary  of  interjections.  But  the  play  itself 
has  sterling  merit,  and  its  satire  upon  fashionable 
snobbery  is  keen  and  cutting.  Sir  Harcourt,  as  the 
type  of  dissipated  and  dilapidated  dandyism,  is  a 
character  that  will  live  upon  the  stage  as  long  as 
men  love  to  laugh  at  the  faults  and  foibles  of  a  bogus 
aristocracy — an  artificial  nobility.  That  of  Dolly 

15 


326  BELLE    BRITTAN 

Spanker  is  equally  good  in  its  way  ;  a  Spooney  sprig 
of  English  upper  ten-dom,  who  is  courted  and  mar 
ried  by  a  gay  and  rakish  woman  for  his  purse  and 
his  title,  and  then  hen-pecked  into  a  thing  of  con 
tempt.  Every  dashing  young  wife,  who  may  he 
"  distantly  related  to  the  Spankers,"  should  go  to 
Wallack's,  just  to  hear  Mrs.  Hoey,  as  Lady  Gay, 
whistle  for  her  poodle  of  a  husband. 

The  character  of  Meddle,  as  personated  by  Blake, 
is  as  amusing  as  such  a  disgusting  sneak  can  be.  I 
confess  that  he  made  me  laugh  whenever  he  ap 
peared  ;  but  my  foot  was  aching  to  kick  the  rascal 
all  the  while.  What  a  terrible  (I  hope  not  truthful) 
burlesque  upon  the  profession  of  the  law  !  And  yet, 
cousin  Lou  says  the  city  is  full  of  just  such  scamps 
as  Meddle  ;  and  what  is  worse,  they  worm  their  way 
to  posts  of  honor  and  influence  ! 

I  haven't  done  with  Wallack's  ;  but  I  am  inter 
rupted,  and  have  only  time  to  add  that  Mrs.  Hoey, 
as  Lady  Gay,  "  brought  down  the  house,"  as  the 
critics  say.  She  was  dressed,  for  the  dinner  party, 
most  magnificently,  with  a  chain  of  real  diamonds 
round  her  neck,  and  a  head-dress  fit  for  a  queen. 


HERE    AND    THERE.  327 

LETTER    No.  XXXI. 

NEW- YORK,        ) 
October    9,  1856   J 
MY  DEAR  : 

THERE  is  something  very  attractive  in  beauty  and 
fashion  ;  and  when  talent  and  genius  are  superadded, 
the  charm  becomes  irresistible.  Mrs.  de  Wilhorst's 
second  appearance  before  the  New- York  public,  last 
evening,  was  greeted  by  a  full  and  brilliant  house. 
Niblo's  elegant  Saloon — the  finest  concert  room  in 
the  city — never  contained  a  more  cultivated  crowd. 
The  miniature  stage  was  beautifully  fitted  up,  mak 
ing  just  a  nice  picture  frame  for  the  pretty  prima 
donna,  whose  modest  yet  composed  appearance  was 
hailed  with  warm  and  long  applause.  She  was  very 
richly  dressed,  but  entirely  without  ornaments,  looking 
more  like  a  well-bred  drawing-room  lady  than  a  popu 
lar  public  singer.  Her  manners  were  earnest  and 
unexceptionable,  and  her  execution  of  the  most  diffi 
cult  pieces  thoroughly  artistic.  What  she  lacks,  to 
my  ear,  or  rather  to  my  heart,  is  enthusiasm,  or 
sympathy  ;  but  this  is  a  rare  quality — the  crowning 
gift  of  genius.  It  is  genius  ;  and  without  it,  all 
music  and  poetry,  and  words  of  religion  or  love,  are  but 
sounding  brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal.  I  do  not  mean 


328  BELLE    BRITTAN 

to  say  that  Madame  de  Wilhorst  is  utterly  devoid  of 
this  divine  element,  which  places  its  possessor  in  in 
stant  communion  with  gods,  angels,  men,  and  devils, 
enabling  the  artist  by  quick  volition  to  be  the  char 
acter  he  assumes  ;  but  her  voice,  although  as  pure 
as  a  flute,  and  as  true  as  mechanism,  lacks  that  in 
describable  tone  which  touches 

-"  the  electric  chain 

Wherewith  we  are  darkly  bound." 

I  am  inclined  to  think  this  sort  of  magnetism  only 
comes  with  love  and  suffering.  .  The  passions  must 
be  experienced  before  they  can  be  expressed.  As 
the  brave  old  G-erman  poet  has  it : 

"  Who  hath  not  his  bread  in  sorrow  eat, 
He  knows  you  not,  ye  Heavenly  powers  !" 

Mrs.  de  Wilhorst,  although  but  a  novitiate,  has 
already  enough  of  art.  Let  her  now  pray  for  inspi 
ration.  The  vocation  she  has  adopted  is  one  of  the 
highest  to  which  a  woman  can  devote  herself.  The 
sphere  she  fills  is  but  a  little  lower  than  that  of  the 
angels,  who  have  nothing  else  to  do  but  sing  and 
love.  The  gift  of  song  is  a  sacred  gift — a  talent  not 
to  be  trifled  with.  Music  is  the  highest  possible 
form  of  expression  ;  the  vernacular,  every-day  lan 
guage  of  heaven. 


HERE    AND   THERE.  329 

LETTER    No.    XXXII. 

NEW-YORK,        > 
October  9,  1857.    J 
MY  DEAR  : 

OH,  this  clear  and  glorious  weather — these  bright 
and  beautiful  days,  linked  together  like  a  string  of 
gold  beads,  a  casket  of  precious  coins  of  Time, 
dropped  from  the  mint  of  Eternity!  How  shall  I 
"improve  the  shining  hours?"  My  "engagement" 
prompts  me  to  write ;  my  disposition  inclines  me  to 
take  a  walk ;  so,  as  a  sort  of  compromise  between 
pleasure  and  duty  (which  I  am  too  apt  to  make),  I 
will  scribble  a  little  of  what  I  saw,  thought,  &c., 
during  a  delightful  promenade  in  Broadway  yester 
day  afternoon,  with  Cousin  Lou.  But  "  who  and 
what  is  Cousin  Lou,"  I  have  been  asked.  "Well,  I 
dare  not  tell  exactly ;  but  he  is  just  one  of  the 
nicest  fellows  in  the  world  for  a  young  lady  to  walk 
and  talk  with,  who  wants  to  be  posted  up  on  "  matters 
and  things  in  general,"  from  the  doings  of  the  Stock 
Exchange  to  the  gossip  of  the  drawing-rooms  and 
green-rooms ;  and  he  seems  to  know  all  about  what 
is  going  on  in  the  fashionable,  financial,  and  political 
world — to  say  nothing  of  the  world  within  and  the 
world  above.  He  is  young,  too,  and  handsome  ; 


330  BELLE    BRITTAN 

patronizes  Devlin,  and  crowns  his  locks  with  a  Leary. 
Well,  as  I  was  walking  down  Broadway  yesterday  af 
ternoon  (I  never  walk  below  Canal-street),  just  as  all 
the  substantial  business  men  were  coming  up,  I  met 
him  (not  by  appointment,  but  by  presentiment),  and 
turned  about  and  joined  the  up-stream  current. 
After  complimenting  my  new  Ferrero  hat  and  Brodie 
mantilla,  which  put  me  in  a  particularly  good  hu 
mor,  and  inviting  me  to  go  to  the  concert  in  the 
evening,  which  made  me  feel  still  happier,  he  began 
as  usual  by  entertaining  me  with  his  comments,  not 
on  passing  events,  but  passing  people.  "  There," 
said  he,  "  comes  George  Sanders,  the  inventor  of  the 
steam  guillotine,  a  substantial,  iron-looking  man, 
with  a  head  as  round  and  as  hard  as  a  cannon-ball, 
who  looks  as  if  Buchanan  stock  was  up  to-day;  and 
as  if  he  were  bursting  with  a  budget  of  good  news 
from  Pennsylvania,  with  which  he  will  exhilarate 
his  distinguished  companions  at  the  New- York  Hotel 
dinner-table  to-day." 

And  there  comes  Gov.  Floyd,  the  late  Governor  of 
Virginia,  and  the  son  of  a  Governor.  He  is  a  ram 
pant  Buchanan  man ;  but  at  the  same  time  one  of 
the  ablest  and  most  reasonable  of  the  Southern  poli 
ticians.  In  the  event  of  Fremont's  election,  he  will 
."  submit,"  and  preach  submission  for  his  sweet 


HERE    AND    THERE.  331 

"Cousin  Jessie's  sake,"  for  whom  he  entertains  the 
most  chivalrous  regard. 

And  not  far  behind  him  we  meet  another  demo 
cratic  magnate,  Robert  J.  Walker,  whose  physical 
dimensions  seem  to  be  on  an  inverse  scale  to  his 
mental  greatness.  "  Good  stuff  in  small  vials," 
Cousin  Lou  remarks  ;  and  says  something  about  that 
bright-eyed  little  gentleman  being  the  inevitable 
candidate  for  the  Presidency  in  1860.  His  "plat 
form"  will  provide  for  the  annihilation  of  all  custom 
houses  and  post-offices,  and  the  finishing  of  the 
Pacific  Railroad,  in  case  it  is  not  completed  under 
the  corning  administration. 

The  kaleidoscopic  crowd  passes  on,  with  its  ever- 
changing  panorama  of  anxious  and  ugly,  of  smiling 
and  beautiful  faces  ;  and  lo,  here  comes  "  metal  more 
attractive" — a  lady  as  lovely  as  a  lily.  *  *  * 

Lou  turns  and  gazes  as  she  floats  away  as  grace 
fully  as  a  wreath  of  mist  upon  the  surface  of  a 
rushing  river,  and  is  silent  for  the  space  of  a  couple 
of  blocks ;  and  then  only  mutters — 

"  Can  such  things  be,  and  overcome  us 
Like  a  summer's  cloud, 
Without  our  special  wonder?" 

Just  then  I  excused  myself  and  went  into  a  store, 
under  the  pretence  of  tying  my  shoe ;  for  I  wouldn't 


332  BELLE    BRITTAN 

give  a  fig  for  any  man's  company  whose  mind,  like 
the  dying  gladiator's  eyes,  "  are  with  his  heart,  and 
that  is  far  away."  *  *  * 

The  concert  was  charming.  The  splendid  saloon 
was  nearly  filled,  and  the  ladies  looked  brilliant  in 
their  autumnal  plumage.  The  artists  were  almost 
all  encored,  and  the  enthusiasm  was  warmer  than 
one  is  accustomed  to  at  the  Academy.  The  "  Brin- 
disi,"  from  Rigoletto,  was  one  of  the  gems  of  the 
evening.  Signer  Cessara  was  tumultuously  called 
to  repeat  it.  Between  the  acts,  a  beautiful  niece  of 
Mrs.  Fremont  sent  a  white  bouquet  of  "  Protestant 
Roses"  to  Madame  La  Grange,  with  the  request 
that  she  would  sing  the  "  Last  Rose  of  Summer  ;" 
but  the  orchestra  had  not  the  music,  so  the  obliging 
artiste  could  only  promise  to  sing  it  at  the  concert 
to-morrow  evening.  "Won't  I  and  everybody  else  be 
there  ? 

After  the  concert,  we  "  looked  in"  at  Wallack's, 
just  in  time  to  hear  the  closing  sentence  of  Bourci- 
cault's  speech,  who  was  returning  thanks  for  his 
"bumper"  benefit.  The  "Phantom,"  which  fol 
lowed,  I  did  not  like.  It  is  a  ghastly,  ghostly  affair, 
and  sends  one  to-bed  full  of  horrors.  I  think  I  have 
read  the  story  in  Dumas,  or  some  other  diabolical 
French  book ;  but  the  stage  version,  I  believe,  is 


HERE    AND    THERE.  333 

claimed  by  the  author  of  "  London  Assurance."  I 
don't  know  how  it  may  be  with  others,  but  for  one, 
I  go  to  the  theatre  to  laugh,  not  to  shudder ;  and  I 
hate  anything  that  smells  of  sulphur.  And  yet,  per 
haps,  like  all  poor  sinners,  I  ought  to  accustom 
myself  to  the  disagreeable  odor. 


LETTER    No.    XXXIII. 

NEW- YORK, 
October  10,  1856. 
MY  DEAR  : 

I  WENT  to  see  the  Wood  &  Christy  Minstrels  last 
evening,  in  company  with  a  little  Christian  maiden, 
six  years  old,  and  a  venerable  damsel  of  three-score 
and  ten,  neither  of  whom  had  ever  "  seen  anything 
of  the  kind  before."  Half  of  my  pleasure  consisted 
in  watching  the  effect  of  the  performances  upon  my 
two  companions  representing  the  opposite  extremes 
of  life.  When  the  curtain  was  drawn  up,  exhibiting 
a  rainbow  of  shining  darkies,  my  little  friend,  who 
has  not  been  long  out  of  heaven,  laughed ;  while  the 
other,  who  cannot  remain  long  away  from  it,  looked 
grave  and  thoughtful  ;  but  when  Greorge  began  to 
rattle  his  bones,  and  the  full  minstrel  band  wailed 
over  us  their  plaintive  songs,  there  seemed  to  gather 
15* 


334  BELLE    BR1TTAN 

a  moisture  about  the  eyes  of  both  that  came  very 
near  being  precipitated  into  a  tear.  How  different 
must  have  been  the  emotions  of  my  two  companions 
that  produced  the  same  result.  I  wonder  if  a 
chemist  by  analyzing  the  joyful  dew  drops  that  we 
call  tears  in  the  eyes  of  a  child,  and  the  sad  drops  that' 
fall  from  the  care-fraught  eyes  of  age,  would  be  able 
to  detect  any  essential  difference  in  the  elements  that 
compose  them?  But  this,  as  the  poet  says,  "were 
to  inquire  too  curiously."  I  have  heard  it  said  that 
joy  and  sorrow  are,  in  effect,  nearly,  if  not  absolutely 
the  same  ;  but  I  don't  believe  in  any  such  philoso 
phical  logic. 

The  Poet  Heine  talks  about  "  the  black  honey 
moon  of  Death ;"  and  says  that  persons  in  profound 
affliction  are  as  gentle  and  tender  as  when  deeply 
and  happily  in  love.  I  only  know  that  this  sad,  sweet 
music,  such  for  instance  as  the  "  Spirit  Bride,"  so 
beautifully  sung  by  these  colored  minstrels,  makes 
me  feel  happier  than  the  liveliest  air  that  was  ever 
set  to  the  bounding  pulsations  of  joy.  And  why  is 
it  ?  Because  all  the  music  of  Nature  is  plaintive  ; 
and  all  its  sounds  are  in  the  minor  key.  The  notes 
of  the  robin,  the  trills  of  the  thrush  ;  the  complaint 
of  the  whip-poor-will ;  the  meanings  of  the  night 
ingale  ;  and  even  the  exultations  of  the  sky-piercing 
lark— 


HERE    AND    THERE.  335 

"  "Whose  lay  is  in  heaven, 
Whose  love  is  on  earth," — 

are  all  too  earnest,  too  serious,  too  beautiful  to  inspire 
gaiety — but  a  serene  sadness  rather.  And  hence  the 
never-failing  pleasure  afforded  by  these  simple  sing 
ing  minstrels,  with  their  "  Dearest  Mays"  and  "  Lucy 
Neals"— their  "  Poor  Uncle  Neds"  and  "  Old  Folks 
at  Home."  In  adopting  the  rustic  negro  garb  they 
sacrifice  Art  to  Nature  ;  and  give  us  the  pastoral 
lays  of  the  corn  and  cotton  fields,  instead  of  the 
artificial  airs  of  the  Academies.  They  sing  of  love, 
and  hope,  and  disappointment,  and  death ;  but  it  is 
for  some  true-hearted  Dinah,  and  not  for  a  dainty 
Dutchess,  that  they  make  us  sigh. 

The  burthen  of  their  melodies  is  in  harmony  with 
the  homely  music  of  every-day  life ;  and  the  masses 
love  it  for  what  it  makes  them  forget  and  for  what 
it  makes  them  remember.  So  these  Minstrel  Halls 
are  always  crowded,  as  "Wood's  and  Christy's  was 
crammed  last  night ;  and  that  too,  with  a  well 
dressed,  decorous,  and  delighted-looking  class  of 
people.  Cousin  Lou,  who  always  has  an  eye  to  finan 
cial  success,  says  Wood  and  Christy  are  making 
$30,000  a  year  by  these  entertainments,  which  are 
never  "  postponed  on  account  of  the  weather  ;"  and  so 
great  is  the  desire  to  witness  their  performances,  that 


336  BELLE    BRITTAN 

on  rainy  nights  the  jams  are  greatest,  because  so 
many  persons  think  on  such  evenings  they  will  be 
able  to  secure  better  seats. 


LETTER    No.    XXXIV. 

NEW- YORK,        \ 
October  16,  1857.  J 

MY  DEAR  : 

Bowery — that's  a  pretty  word,  suggestive  of  the 
"the  shady  shadow  of  umbrageous  trees"  and  a 
dolce  far  niente  state  of  existence.  The  very  sound 
is  redolent  of  romance  ;  and  fraught  with  fragrant 
and  flowery  associations.  The  Bowery-way  the 
Bowery-street — how  soft  and  poetic  in  comparison 
with  the  Broadway !  Besides,  the  latter  has  an 
nnpleasant  Biblical  significance  that  often  makes  us 
shudder,  especially  as  poetized  by  the  sombre  ortho 
dox  psalmist. 

"  Broad  is  the  way  that  leads  to  death, 
And  thousands  walk  together  there, 

But  wisdom  shows  a  narrow  path, 
With  here  and  there  a  traveller." 

But  this  is  a  digression  to  begin  with.  My  pen  of 
late,  which  the  New-Orleans  Picayune  says  I  should 
"  never  nib"  (I  don't  know  what  he  means  by  it),  has 


HERE    AND    THERE.  337 

decidedly  a  discursive  tendency,  and  requires  a 
constant  restraint  to  overcome  "  the  centrifugal 
force."  "  John  Brougham  in  the  Bowery"  is  the 
"head  of  my  discourse"  to-day;  so  I  must  stick  to 
my  text. 

After  considerable  remonstrating  on  the  part  of 
certain  prudent  female  "  friends  and  guardians,"  I 
at  last  received  permission  for  "  one  night  only,"  to 
appear  at  the  Bowery  Theatre,  under  the  gallant 
protection  of  Cousin  Lou  and  a  couple  of  extra  at 
tendants.  From  the  early  impressions  of  childhood, 
gathered  from  reading  occasional  stories  of  "  Life  in 
Gotham,"  with  a  scrap  or  two  of  "Hot  Corn," 
"  New-York  by  Gas-Light,"  &c.,  &c.,  (books  strictly 
and  justly  forbidden  at  Madame  Chegary's  boarding- 
school — but  "  stolen  fruit,"  you  know,  we  girls  do  love 
to  nibble),  I  was  prepared,  on  entering,  to  encounter 
a  great  and  peculiar  odor  composed  of  rum,  garlic, 
gas,  and  peanuts  ;  but  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find 
an  atmosphere  free  from  all  offensive  impurities ; 
and  a  well-dressed,  well-behaved,  respectable-looking 
crowd  of  people.  The  house  is  elegantly  painted, 
brilliantly  lighted,  and  in  every  respect  presents  the 
appearance  of  a  first-class  theatre.  Cousin  Lou 
says  all  these  changes  have  been  effected  by  the 
magic  wand  of  Brougham ;  and  that  the  ancient 


338  BELLE    BRITTAN 

glory  of  the  "  Bowery,"  as  a  "  peculiar  institution," 
with  its  shirt  sleeves  in  the  pit,  and  its  "hi!  hi!" 
shouts  in  the  gallery,  has  entirely  departed. 

The  principal  play  last  evening  was  a  Frenchy 
piece,  called  "  Retribution,"  which  was  attentively 
witnessed  ;  but  with  very  little  demonstration  of  ap 
plause.  Mr.  Brougham  played  the  hero — the  part 
of  the  injured  husband ;  and  the  "  moral"  of  the 
plot  consists  in  making  the  innocent  party  the  vic 
tim.  This  I  know  often,  if  not  usually,  happens  in 
real  life  (Lord,  how  the  wicked  prosper  !)  but  I  con 
fess  I  prefer  to  see  a  little  poetic  justice  administered 
to  the  villains  of  the  stage,  if  only  for  "the  novelty 
of  the  thing."  And  yet,  I  suppose  the  dramatists 
think  they  must  follow  Nature  and  Shakspeare 
(Nature  interpreted  and  set  to  music),  and  continue  to 
show  up  virtue  as  "  its  own  reward,"  because,  in  this 
world,  it  seldom  receives  any  other.  Desdemona — 
all  sweetness,  and  purity,  and  truth — is  murdered  by 
him  to  whom  her  very  soul  is  wedded  ;  the  dutiful 
Cordelia  is  triumphed  over  by  her  unnatural  sisters  ; 
thd  fair  Ophelia's  heart  is  crushed  in  the  fragrant 
fullness  of  its  first  affections  ;  the  gentle  Juliet  dies 
a  victim  to  her  delicious  dream  of  love ;  and  so  on 
through  the  whole  catalogue  of  ideal  women,  who 
are  made  to  illustrate  the  saddest  fact  in  the  history 


HERE    AND   THERE.  339 

of  humanity — the  eternal  sacrifice  upon  that  com 
mon  altar  with  this  inscription  :  "  To  THE  LOVE 
THAT  FATE  FORBIDS."  How  many  of  the  fairest  flow 
ers  of  creation  have  been  offered  up  to  wither  there  ? 
The  part  of  the  tempter  in  this  play  of  "  Retri 
bution"  was  tolerably  well  acted  by  Miss  Kate  Reig- 
nolds,  who  evidently  believes  that  woman's  witchery 
lies  in  fantastic  ringlets,  in  the  tender 

"  tangles  of  Nerea's  hair." 


At  the  fall  of  the  curtain  there  was  a  loud  call  for 
Brougham,  whose  funny  speech  was  the  best  part  of 
the  performance.  No  stenography  could  do  it  jus 
tice. 


LETTER     No.    XXXV. 

NEW-YORK,      ^ 
October  2,   1856   J 
MY  DEAR  : 

PEOPLE  who  think  it  a  sin  to  laugh  should  never 
enter  Burton's  Theatre,  which  is  literally  a  "  place 
of  amusement,"  a  temple  of  Momus.  Whether  or 
not  it  is  better  for  the  heart  to  laugh  than  to  cry,  I 
am  sure  it  is  decidedly  better  for  the  liver.  It  pro- 


340  BELLE    BRITTAN 

motes  digestion,  and  throws  off  care  and  bile  at  the 
same  time.  I  know  it  is  said  that  the  best  men 
who  have  ever  lived  were  not  much  given  to  cachi- 
nation — "Washington  seldom  laughed  ;  a  greater  than 
"Washington,  never.  But  the  one  was  solemnly 
charged  with  the  redemption  of  a  world,  and  the 
salvation  of  mankind ;  and  the  other  with  the  revo 
lution  of  a  nation  and  the  establishment  of  human 
liberty.  For  us,  poor  every-day  sinners,  who  have 
no  such  grave  mission  to  fulfill,  there  surely  can  be 
no  harm  in  a  little  innocent  laughter  at  the  mimic 
scenes  of  the  stage,  wherein  our  own  faults  are  fairly 
burlesqued ;  while  the  ridicule  in  which  we  join  is  a 
shaft  aimed  at  our  own  follies.  There  is  no  criticism 
so  trenchant,  no  censorship  so  effective  as  the  satirical 
comedy  of  the  drama  ;  and  the  harder  it  hits  the 
more  we  applaud. 

Is  there,  for  instance,  any  better  looking-glass-  in 
which  a  smooth-faced,  money-worshiping  hypocrite 
may  "  see  himself  as  others  see  him,"  than  the  Rev. 
Aminidab  Sleek,  as  portrayed  by  Burton  in  the 
"  Serious  Family  ?"  Or  where  shall  we  find  the 
common-place,  nonsensical  bickerings  of  domestic 
life  so  admirably  hit  off,  and  forced  home  with  "  a 
moral,"  as  in  the  comical  trials  and  tribulations  of 
the  "  Toodles  ?"  I  have  seen  sober,  housekeeping- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  341 

looking  ladies  "laugh  till  they  cried"  at  the  ridicu 
lous  absurdities  of  Mrs.  Toodle's  purchases,  without, 
apparently,  suspecting  themselves  of  committing 
almost  daily  similar  follies.  And  yet,  I  have  no 
doubt,  a  little  after-reflection  upon  the  lessons  con 
veyed  in  this  wholesome  satire  may  have  checked 
an  idle  propensity  to  buy  useless  articles,  merely 
because  they  were  "so  cheap,  and  so  convenient  to 
have  in  the  house." 

With  a  little  of  this  sort  of  vague  philosophy  as  a 
basis  for  my  conscience  to  rest  upon,  I  go  to  the 
theatre  expressly  for  amusement,  seasoned  with  a 
little  incidental  instruction.  Perhaps  I  could  spend 
my  time  time  better  elsewhere ;  and  I  know  I  could 
spend  it  a  great  deal  worse. 

The  unco  guid  invite  me  to  forsake  the  evil  ways 
of  the  theatre,  and  take  to  "  conference  meetings." 
But  I  do  not  enjoy  their  vapid  prayers  and  prosy 
exhortations ;  and  what  my  inmost  nature  rejects 
and  protests  against  I  know  is  not  good  for  me,  any 
more  than  the  poison  that  nauseates  my  taste  is  good 
for  the  body.  "The  theatre  is  the  gate  of  hell." 
thunders  the  priest.  Very  well ;  I  cannot  help  it. 
I'm  in  for  it.  I  have  heard  of  a  Wall-street  broker 
who  wanted  to  have  the  exercises  of  the  stock  board 
opened  with  prayer !  Such  a  sombre  saint  as  he 


342  BELLE    BRITTAN 

would  never  allow  the  sunshine  of  Burton's  wit  to 
enlighten  his  hard  humanities  ;  but  he  is  a  man  one 
well  might  fear  to  meet  alone  in  the  dark  with  a 
pocket  full  of  money. 

So  much  for  my  musings  before  arriving  at  Bur 
ton's.  Here  we  are.  What  a  splendid  house  !  Light 
ed,  as  the  Italians  say,  a  giorno ;  and  every  thing 
looking  new,  elegant,  and  brilliant.  The  house  is 
well  filled.  The  play — "  The  Wreckers — a  -Dream 
at  Sea."  It  is  a  wild,  wicked,  melo-dramatic  affair, 
relieved  by  one  huge  piece  of  fun  in  the  shape  of  the 
great  Burton — a  tipsy  tax  collector,  with  an  ardent 
fondness  for  the  "  flowing  bowl,"  which  is  often  upon 
his  lips.  His  corkscrew  entrance  is  greeted  with 
roars  of  laughter  ;  and  for  the  time  being,  every 
heart  in  all  that  vast  crowd  is  relieved  of  its  private 
burthen  of  peculiar  cares,  while  transitory  gleams  of 
joy  sparkle  in  every  eye.  It  is  a  pleasant  sight  to 
see  two  or  three  thousand  heavy,  thought- worn, 
time-wrinkled  human  faces  thus  suddenly  lighted 
up  with  rays  of  good  humor,  and  transported,  if  only 
for  a  moment,  into  a  blessed  oblivion  of  themselves. 
The  gloomy  fog,  which  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  au 
dience — the  condensed  vapors  arising  in  silent  sighs 
from  a  thousand  "  heart-burnings" — lifts  and  van 
ishes;  everybody  looks  and  feels  radiant,  amiable, 


HERE    AND    THERE.  343 

and  happy ;  and  when  the  play  is  over,  they  who . 
came  to  the  theatre  enveloped  in  clouds  of  electric 
moroseness,  return  to  their  homes  cheerful  and  se 
rene  ;  and  all  in  consequence  of  having  "  had  a  good 
laugh  at  Burton's." 

Such  being  the  legitimate  and  benign  effect  of  a 
good  comedy,  well  acted,  I  must  honestly  regard 
Burton  as  a  great  and  glorious  institution ;  and  con 
scientiously  congratulate  the  public  on  his  accession 

to  sc  capacious  and  splendid  a  threatre,  where  the 

* 
light  of  his  comic  countenance  will  no  longer  be  hid 

under  a  bushel.  With  so  fine  a  house,  so  central  a 
location,  and  so  good  a  company,  Mr.  Burton's  suc 
cess  can  hardly  fail  to  equal  his  hopes.  Among  the 
unfamiliar  faces  at  Burton's,  Polly  Marshall's  is 
making  a  favorable  impression.  Plump  as  a  part 
ridge,  with  a  symmetrical,  well-finished  figure,  and  a 
sprightly  versatility  of  manner,  she  pleases  the  ladies 
and  rather  fascinates  the  gentlemen. 

The  acting  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davenport  is  good  of 
its  kind,  earnest  and  effective,  and  evidently  appre 
ciated  by  the  masses ;  but  after  the  bibulous  Burton 
had  once  filled  the  stage  with  his  peculiar  presence, 
and  surcharged  the  atmosphere  of  the  house  with 
the  comic  contagion  of  his  indescribable  countenance, 
the  tragedy  passages  of  the  play  were  at  a  discount. 
What  would  "  Burton's"  be  without  Burton  ? 


344  BELLE    BRITTAN 


LETTER    No.    XXXVI. 

NEW-YORK,          * 

-,  1857.  $ 

MY  DEAR : 

IT  is  a  blessed  thing  to  love,  to  worship,  to  adore  ; 
and  it  does  not  follow,  that  all  who  find  in  Nature 
and  in  Art  plentiful  inspirations  of  these  blissful  and 
exalting  emotions  are  necessarily  atheists.  On  the 
contrary,  I  regard  an  atheist  as  a  moral  monstrosity, 
if  not  a  logical  impossibility.  "Whatever  is  good  and 
beautiful  in  man,  is  Grod  manifest  in  the  flesh ; 
whatever  is  grand  and  lovely  in  Nature,  is  Grod 
manifest  in  his  works ;  and  whatever  in  Art  ap 
proaches  the  truth  and  beauty  of  either,  rises  as  near 
to  the  Divinity  as  the  finite  possibilities  of  human 
conception  and  human  skill  can  go.  The  most  beau 
tiful  visions  of  Nature — the  shining  heavens,  the 
sparkling  stars,  the  blossoming  trees,  the  glittering 
gems  ;  and  the  intelligent  radiance  of  "  the  human 
face  divine,"  are  but  varied  revelations  of  the  veiled 
and  incomprehensible  Deity — the  infinite  Soul  of 
Love  and  Beauty,  in  which  all  things  live,  move, 
and  have  their  being.  The  universal  desire,  and 
prayer,  and  longing  of  the  poor  benighted  human 
heart,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  is  for  light  from 


HERE    AND   THERE.  345 

this  celestial  ray,  for  music  from  the  eternal  fountain 
of  harmony,  for  love  from  the  everlasting  and  inef 
fable  Love  that  made  us.  This  is  the  religion  of 
the  Beautiful,  to  which  all  must  become  disciples,  in 
order  to  appreciate  the  inconceivable  glories  of  the 
world  that  surrounds  us,  or  to  partake  of  the  beati 
tudes  of  the  heaven  that  lies  before  us.  Baptized  in 
the  spirit  of  that  unsectarian  and  universal  Church, 
whose  worship  is  in  the  Temple  of  the  Beautiful — a 
house  not  made  with  hands — I  find  an  altar  every 
where  in  Nature ;  and  a  medium  of  adoration  in 
every  worthy  Work  of  Art. 

With  this  burning  thirst  for  inspiration,  this  per 
petual  panting  for  a  purer  atmosphere,  this  restless 
desire  to  nestle  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  bosom  of  the 
Great  Mother  of  us  all,  who 


" never  did  betray 

The  heart  that  loved  her," 

I  devoutly  enter  the  sanctuary  of  Art,  and  wait, 
like  a  serene  and  silent  Quaker,  for  the  "  moving  of 
the  spirit."  And  what  is  there  in  this  "  Academy 
of  Design,"  with  all  its  brilliant  array  of  colored 
canvas,  its  five  hundred  and  fifty  separate  "  works," 
to  unseal  the  vision  and  flood  our  hearts  with  "  the 
light  that  never  yet  hath  shone  on  sea  or  land  ?" 


346  BELLE    BRITTAN 

In  the  first  place,  I  am  confronted  and  affronted 
with  a  portrait  of  Almighty  Grod,  accompanied  by  an 
angel  of  wrath  driving  a  miserable  pair  of  human 
wretches  out  of  Paradise  into  a  world  of  sin,  and 
sorrow,  and  death !  The  blasphemy  of  the  concep 
tion  is  not  redeemed  by  any  artistic  merit  in  the 
execution.  The  figure  and  the  face  of  the  Grod  are  alto 
gether  repulsive  ;  while  the  deputy  crouching  at  his 
feet  with  the  "  flaming  sword"  lacks  the  dignity  of 
a  decent  policeman.  And  as  for  Adam  and  Eve, 
such  small-potato  looking  "  first  parents"  are  quite 
enough  to  reconcile  one  to  Lord  Monboddo's  theory 
of  the  origin  of  mankind.  It  is  altogether  a  shock 
ing  conception,  and  only  fit  for  a  target  in  a  shoot 
ing  gallery. 

What  a  relief  to  close  the  eyes  upon  this  night 
mare  "  expulsion,"  and  raise  them  to  Church's 
"Andes,"  where  the  grandeur  and  the  beauty  of  the 
Creator  are  exhibited  in  the  lofty  mountains,  and 
diffused  through  the  misty  sun-shine.  Through  all 
the  vastness,  wildness,  and  even  dreariness  of  the 
scene,  the  spirit  of  love  and  beauty  kindles  and  glows, 
while  the  pure  water  comes  gushing  down  in  liquid 
life,  refreshing  the  "  place  beneath"  like  a  benedic 
tion.  The  sentiment  of  humanity  is  not  wanting  to 
complete  the  pleasing  impression.  There  is  an  altar 


HERB  AND    THERE.  347 

in  the  foreground,  before  which  a  woman  is  kneel 
ing,  while  her  lover  comes,  unseen,  to  witness  her 
devotion.  This  little  touch  of  nature  envelops  the 
picture  in  an  atmosphere  of  romance,  and  warms 
the  imagination  with  the  glowing  emotion  of  reli 
gion.  There  is  no  "  angry  God"  in  my  "  theology" 
to  expel  a  loving  pair  from  an  Eden  like  this. 

In  the  department  of  portraiture,  the  present  Ex 
hibition  is  abundant  in  numbers,  but  meagre  in 
merit.  The  ''counterfeit  presentment"  of  humanity 
must  either  possess  striking  lineaments  of  strength 
or  beauty,  or  evince  rare  artistic  skill  in  the  draw 
ing  and  the  finishing,  to  excite  interest  in  the  gen 
eral  observer.  Almost  any  picture  of  man  or  wo 
man,  when  looked  at  through  the  eye  of  friendship  or 
lovership,  becomes  an  object  of  admiration,  and  even  of 
affection.  The  most  unromantic  of  us  have  sometimes 
kissed  a  miniature,  perhaps  sweetened  our  sleep  by 
placing  it  under  our  pillow.  It  must  be  owing  to 
this  feeling,  to  this  exaggeration  of  individual  senti 
ment,  that  we  see  so  many  ugly  faces  staring  at  us 
from  the  walls  of  the  Academy ;  with  scarcely  one 
heroic  man  or  beautiful  woman  represented  among 
them  all.  With  the  exception  of  two  or  three  sweet 
faces  by  Baker,  there  is  nothing  to  make  me  feel 
jealous  of  Cousin  Lou's  admiration  ;  and  as  for  the 


348  BELLE    BRITTAN 

masculine  "  frontispieces,"  I  would  rather  look  at 
the  living  head  by  my  side  one  blessed  minute,  than 
to  gaze  on  these  "  dead  heads"  for  any  indefinite 
period. 


LETTER    No.     XXXVII. 

NEW- YORK  HOTEL,      ) 
Oct.  30,  1857.  ) 


MY  DEAR 


MATRIMONY  is  a  great  institution.  The  correspond 
ing  sexes  were  made  for  each  other,  like  the  halves 
of  a  pair  of  scissors.  A  primal  necessity  brings  them 
together,  and  the  union,  when  regulated  by  law, 
becomes  a  marriage — a  bargain,  a  contract.  In 
other  words,  the  parties  become  mutual  properties, 
inviolate  and  inalienable.  The  law  regulating  the 
intercourse  of  the  sexes  is  one  of  the  fundamental 
laws  of  society.  All  civilized,  and  even  barbarous 
nations  observe  it ;  and  in  most  countries,  the  rite 
or  ceremony  of  marriage  is  regarded  both  as  a  reli 
gious  consecration  and  a  civil  compact. 

The  sentimental  nonsense  about  "  matches  being 
made  in  heaven  ;"  and  the  priestly  mummery  about 
men  and  women  being  indissolubly  "  joined  together 


HERE    AND    THERE.  349 

by  God,"  for  time  and  eternity,  is  precisely  what 
makes  marriage  a  farce  in  the  beginning,  and  a 
tragedy  in  the  end.  In  a  fit  of  foolish  passion  a 
simpleton  of  a  girl,  who  has  been  reared  like  a  deli 
cate  plant  in  a  green-house,  rushes  to  some  poor 
parson  (licensed,  for  a  fee,  to  rivet  male  and  female 
together),  puts  her  little  white  hand  into  the  "  huge 
paw"  of  her  father's  coachman,  and  is  solemnly  sold 
for  life — under  the  awful  injunction — "  "Whom  (rod 
has  joined  together  let  not  man  put  asunder."  "With 
all  due  respect  to  the  "  holy  institution  of  matrimony," 
I  cannot  help  feeling  that,  in  a  case  like  this,  the 
name  of  Grod  is  taken  in  vain. 

When  the  eternal  affinities  draw  man  and  woman 
together  ;  when  their  souls  and  bodies  are  in  perfect 
harmony  with  each  other  ;  and  there  flows  from  and 
into  the  hearts  of  both  the  sweet  melody  of  love, 
then  there  is  a  marriage  indeed  ;  and  the  white 
angels  of  heaven  may  attend  as  bridesmaids.  Upon 
such  a  scene,  it  is  neither  absurd  nor  blasphemous 
to  invoke  the  name  of  Grod  and  the  blessings  of 
Nature. 

"We  hear  much  of  marriage  in  high  life  and  mar 
riage  in  low  life  ;  of  good  matches  and  bad  matches ; 
and  occasionally  of  a  cross  between  the  upper  and 
lower  spheres  of  society,  that  greatly  shocks  the  pro- 

16 


350  BELLE    BRITTAN 

prieties.  The  questions,  who  to  marry,  how  to  marry, 
and  when  to  marry,  are  seldom  discussed  in  the 
newspapers  ;  but  they  are  the  most  important  topics 
of  life.  They  come  home  to  the  very  bosoms  of  all 
our  families ;  involving  the  health,  the  happiness,  and 
the  fortunes  of  our  sons  and  daughters,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  coming  generations,  "  waiting  upon  the  shores 
of  Lethe,  to  be  born." 

I  take  it  for  granted  that  it  is  the  great  problem  of 
all  parents,  especially  mothers,  to  see  their  children, 
particularly  their  daughters,  what  they  call  "  well 
married."  And  it  is  a  fact  which  cannot  be  honestly 
denied,  that  the  desire  to  better  the  condition  of  their 
children,  socially  and  financially,  enters  largely  into 
the  matrimonial  calculations  of  all  parties.  There 
is  a  straining  to  rise  a  degree  or  two  above  their  pre 
sent  social  STATUS,  and  to  better  their  condition 
generally — in  a  word,  to  make  what  the  fashionable 
world  calls  "an  eligible  match,"  is  the  great  am 
bition  of  mothers  who  have  daughters  "  in  the 
market." 

The  sympathetic  affinities  are  not  consulted — the 
eternal  fitness  of  things  is  not  considered.  The  ten 
drils  of  young  hearts  are  rudely  rent  from  where  they 
would  fasten ;  and  the  affections  are  bent  and  pruned 
into  compliance  with  the  cruel  exactions  of  the  con- 


HERE    AND    THERE.  351 

ventionalities.     Now  and  then  a  hot  temperament 
rebels  ;  and  a  "  runaway  match"  ensues. 

The  principal  cause  of  these  domestic  misunder 
standings  and  faux  pas,  may  be  traced  to  the  utter 
lack  of  confidence  between  parents  and  children  on 
the  delicate  subject  of  matrimony.  The  young 
maiden  in  love  hides  her  sweet  secret  in  a  sort  of 
blissful  shame,  even  from  the  bosom  of  her  mother — 

"  She  never  tells  her  love, 
But  lets  concealment,"  &c. 

This  is  .all  wrong.  Upon  the  very  first  symptom 
of  the  delicious  disease,  the  maternal  doctor  should 
be  consulted  ;  and  the  "case"  carefully  and  candidly 
considered.  If  the  attachment  is  serious,  threatening 
to  be  dangerous,  the  treatment  should  be  gentle  and 
skillful.  Fierce  opposition  will  only  inflame  the 
fever  and  lead  to  fatal  results.  Is  the  "object  of  the 
young  lady's  affections"  objectionable  on  the  score 
of  character,  looks,  poverty,  ignorance,  disease,  or 
social  position,  tell  her  so  plainly  ;  and  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  reason  will  convince  her  that  gross  dis 
parity  in  circumstances  can  only  lead  to  conjugal 
infelicity  ;  and  time  will  complete  the  cure  that  reflec 
tion  has  begun. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  violent  mode  of  treatment 


352       1  BELLE    BRITTAN 

will  bring  wretchedness  to  the  patient,  and  suffering 
to  her  family.  Parental  tyranny  incites  filial-  rebel 
lion;  and  the  lock  and  key,  or  "  temporary  absence 
in  Europe,"  only  hastens  the  catastrophe.  Fathers 
and  mothers,  let  me  affectionately  and  respectfully 
commend  to  you  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  hearts  of  your  daughters,  especially  on  the  deli 
cate,  dangerous,  and  vital  subject  of  matrimony. 


LETTEK    No.    XXXVIII. 

NEW-YORK,          % 
,  1858.  5 

MY  DEAR  •          : 

I  WENT  to  see  Forrest  last  night  at  the  Broadway 
Theatre — the  great,  the  stalwart,  the  celebrated 
American  Tragedian.  The  play  was  "  Damon  and 
Pythias."  The  house  was  full.  Cousin  Lou  was 
not  with  me.  I  was  not  happy  ;  but  in  the  progress 
of  the  play  I  forgot  myself.  I  am  glad  I  went.  Can 
I  make  the  readers  of  the  Mirror  glad  of  it  also  ? 
Perhaps  some  of  them.  I'll  try.  Mr.  Forrest  is  the 
Anak  of  the  stage — the  Boanerges  of  actors.  He  has 
a  Romanesque  physique ;  "a  combination  and  a 
form"  worthy  of  the  toga.  His  face  is  expressive  ; 


HERE   AND    THERE.  353 

but  rather  of  strong  passion  than  of  nice  intellectual 
perception  ;  and  his  voice  better  suited  to  command 
armies  than  to  woo  women.  His  step  is  stately  rather 
than  graceful ;  and  his  movements  more  of  the 
elephantine  than  of  the  feline  order.  All  this  I  saw 
upon  his  entrance  upon  the  stage,  which  was  bois 
terously  greeted,  and  proudly  and  impressively  ac 
knowledged. 

The  play  of  "Damon  and  Pythias,"  as  all  the 
world  knows,  is  based  upon  the  chivalrous,  self- 
sacrificing  sentiment  of  Friendship — a  sentiment 
more  easily  simulated  upon  the  stage  than  acted  out 
in  real  life — another  fact  that  all  the  world  knows, 
except  Freshmen  at  college,  and  bread-and-butter 
girls  at  school. 

Bat  the  stronger  element  of  Love  is  not  wanting. 
Damon  and  Hermione,  Pythias  and  Calanthe  are, 
madly  "in  for  it;"  and  that,  too,  after  the  frantic 
fashion  of  the  early  ages,  when  love  was  a  romance, 
and  not  a  conventional  business.  They  remind  us 
of  the  "passionate  lovers  of  "  Festus,"  who  defy  God 
and  Death  to  part  them  ;  and  press  each  other's  lips 
until  they  bleed  like  crushed  grapes. 

In  the  tender  scenes,  Mr.  Forrest  lacked  tender 
ness  ;  but  in  the  forum  and  in  the  fight,  he  was  ter 
rific.     Damon  is  a  disciple  of  Pythagoras  ;  and  his 
16* 


354  BELLE    BRITTAN 

sentiments  are  those  of  a  patriot,  a  philosopher,  and 
a  democrat.  His  friendship  for  Pythias,  his  brother 
Senator,  "  passes  the  love  of  women."  For  him  he 
will  sacrifice  wife,  child,  life,  and  all  the  world. 
Such  heroic  fidelity  as  this  makes  grand  poetry  ;  but 
the  ties  of  nature  should  be  stronger  than  friendship. 
The  weeping  Hermione  and  the  kneeling  little  one 
appeal  to  a  higher  law  than  the  law  of  brotherhood  ; 
and  no  vow  of  friendship  can  absolve  the  more  sacred 
obligations  of  love.  "  Damon  and  Pythias"  I  must 
therefore  regard  as  a  noble,  but  unnatural  story. 
While  admiring  the  attachment  of  the  friends,  I  feel 
as  if  there  was  something  lacking  between  the  lov 
ers.  If  I  had  a  Damon,  who  would  consent  to  leave 
me  and  my  little  one,  and  go  and  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  friend,  I  should  feel  that  his  love  was  no 
match  for  mine. 

In  the  case  of  Pythias,  who  takes  the  risk  of  death 
on  his  wedding-day,  driving  his  beautiful  bride  to 
distraction,  the  stoicism  of  the  play  is  still  more 
shocking.  But  I  am  expressing  the  sentiments  of  a 
woman,  and  perhaps  giving  utterance  to  more  feel 
ing  than  philosophy. 

Mrs.  Davenport  (Lizzie  Weston)  played  the  part 
of  the  loving,  broken-hearted  Calanthe  charmingly. 
She  is  a  handsome  woman,  and  she  entered  into  the 


HERE    AND    THERE.  355 

passion  of  the  piece  in  a  womanly  and  artistic  man 
ner.  In  the  scene  where  she  almost  peremptorily 
prays  the  Sun  to  pause  in  his  descent,  that  Damon 
may  return  in  time  to  save  her  lover's  life — crying  to 
all  the  elements  to  add  wings  to  his  speed ;  com 
manding  the  hard  earth  to  become  liquid,  and  "  flow 
with  him  hither  ;"  and  again,  where  but  a  minute 
more  of  hope  is  left,  she  peers  into  the  distance  with 
supernatural  vision,  and  shrieks  and  swoons  away 
as  the  executioner  tears  her  from  the  arms  of 
Pythias,  Mrs.  Davenport  exhibited  a  tragic  power 
that  I  have  rarely  seen  surpassed  on  the  stage. 

The  role  of  Pythias  by  Mr.  Daly  was  cleverly, 
though  very  unequally  rendered ;  and  Mrs.  Ponisi's 
Herrnione  was  all  that  could  be  desired.  I  have 
nothing  further  to  add,  except  to  complain  of  the 
hideous  shouts  and  whistles  in  the  gallery,  which 
frightened  "  nervous  ladies  ;"  and  will  prevent  them 
from  subjecting  their  ears  to  such  terrific  yells  of- 
tener  than  once  a  month,  even  to  see  the  "  Great 
American  Trageidan."  Where's  the  police  ?" 


356  BELLE    BRITTAN 

LETTER    No.    XXXIX. 

"  THB  PAVILION,"  ROCKAWAY,  > 
June  2,  1858.          ) 
MY  DEAR : 

As  thousands  of  your  readers  know  as  little  of  this 
charming  place  as  I  did  but  a  few  hours  ago,  I  will 
endeavor  to  give  them  a  brief  description  of  the  pre 
mises,  of  the  location,  and  the  way  to  get  there.     The 
"  Pavilion  Hotel"  is  a  large  building,  situated  close 
to  the  sea,  and  commanding  from  its  front  windows 
an  unbroken  view  of  the  ocean,  embracing  nearly  a 
third  of  the  circle  of  the  horizon.     The  entire  length 
of  the  house  is  over  four  hundred  feet.     In  the  rear 
there  is  a  pleasant  lawn,  with  numerous  trees,  and 
containing  ten  pretty  little  white  cottages.     The  es 
tablishment  will  accommodate  about  five  hundred 
persons.     The    dining  hall  will  seat  four  hundred. 
The    ladies'    drawing-room    is    very  spacious,   and 
most  of  the  rooms  are  superior  in  every  respect  to 
those  usually  found  in  summer  hotels.     In  the  way 
of  amusements,  there  are  billiard   saloons,  bowling 
alleys,  fine  drives,  safe  and  excellent  surf  bathing, 
&c.,  &c.     That  the  hotel  will  be  well  kept  this  sea 
son,  the  public  have  a  sufficient  guarantee  in  the 
name  of  the  new  proprietor,  Mr.  Francis  Rider,  of 


HERE    AND    THERE.  357 

the  "  St.  Germain"  and  for  eleven  years  the  popular 
proprietor  of  the  "  West  Point  Hotel."  His  rooms 
are  being  rapidly  taken,  and  everything  promises  a 
full  and  fashionable  "season" 'at  Rockaway.  Seve 
ral  of  our  city  belles  will  be  here  in  the  course  of  a 
week  or  two,  and  then  with  youth,  beauty,  music, 
and  mirth,  we  are  counting  on  the  gayest  of  times. 

I  am  almost  ashamed  to  confess  that  this  is  my 
first  visit  to  Rockaway  ;  and  I  am  still  more  ashamed 
to  think  how  often  I  have  "  been  farther  to  fare 
worse."  But  a  fatality,  in  my  case,  may  be  offered 
as  an  apology.  In  former  years,  I  have  three  several 
times  engaged  to  drive  to  Rockaway,  and  each  time 
been  prevented  by  the  death  of  persons  related  to 
some  of  the  party.  The  fourth  engagement  was  bro 
ken  by  a  storm,  and  only  the  fifth  appointment  has 
brought  me  here.  I  am  fascinated  with  the  place. 
The  environs  of  the  "  Pavilion"  are  very  pleasant. 
There  are  dozens  of  small  hotels  and  boarding-houses, 
and  many  beautiful  private  cottages.  Among  the 
finest  are  Honorable  Horace  F.  Clark's  and  Mr. 
Hiram  Cranston's  ;  the  former  situated  on  the  ex 
treme  point  of  land,  with  the  lips  of  the  sea  kissing 
its  feet,  and  the  latter  on  a  beautiful  plane  of  eleva 
ted  ground  embowered  in  a  grove  of  ever-green 
cedars. 


358  BELLE    BRITTAN 

/ 

But  the  great  charm  of  the  place  is  the  sea — the 
blue,  the  free,  the  open,  the  eternal  sea.  I  never 
look  upon  its  "azure  brow"  on  which  "Time  writes 
no  wrinkles,"  without  a  thrill  of  new  delight ;  and 
its  murmurs  never  fail  to  lull  me  into  a  state  of 
tranquil  exaltation.  Emblem  of  Eternity — throne 
of  the  Invisible — mirror  of  the  Almighty — who  does 
not  love  and  reverence  the  sea-! 

"  I  never  was  on  the  dull,  tame  shore, 
But  I  loved  the  great  sea  more  and  more, 
And  backward  flew  to  its  billowy  breast, 
Like  a  bird  that  seeketh  its  mother's  nest." 

Last  night,  in  the  serene  stillness  and  beauty  to 
midnight,  I  saw  the  calm,  mild  moon — the  gentle 
Christ  of  the  solar  system — rise  out  of  the  heaving 
bosom  of  the  great  deep,  making  the  night  holy  and 
hopeful,  by  the  tender  light  of  her  sweet,  sad  smile. 
The  long,  white  beach,  bordering  the  dark  water, 
stretched  away  in  the  unbounded  distance,  looking 
like  the  ghostly  pathway  of  departed  spirits.  And 
the  mystic  strain  of  the  poet  "  stole  like  music  on 
my  soul :" 

"  In  moments  of  calm  weather, 

Our  souls  have  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 

Which  brought  us  hither  ; — 

Can,  in  a  moment,  travel  thither ; 

And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore." 


HERE    AND    THERE.  359 

But  I  am  far  away  from  Rockaway.  This  is  not  tell 
ing  "  all  the  world  and  its  wife"  how  to  come  here  and 
be  blest.  And  I  have  only  room  to  say,  like  a  guide 
book — go  to  the  South  Ferry,  take  the  cars  to 
Jamaica,  thence  the  stage  to  Rockaway;  and  here 
you  are — in  the  brief  space  of  two  hours,  transported 
from  the  noisa  and  noisomsness  of  the  great  city,  to 
the  silence,  the  solemnity,  the  mystery,  and  the 
music  of  the  Great  Sea.  Then — 

"  Come — come  dwell  with  me, 
And  our  borne — our  home  shall  be 
A  pleasant  cot,  in  a  tranquil  spot, 
With  a  (list  int.  view  of  the  changing  sea. 
The  streamlet,  as  it  flows  along, 
Is  murmuring  a  fairy  song  ; 
The  tendrils  of  the  purple  vine 
Around  our  rustic  casement  twine. 
Then  come  with  me — -come  dwell  with  me," 
&c.,  &c. 

Yours,  to  surf  it  for  a  while.  


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